Walking the Path Less Traveled
by CaedmonCousland
Summary: Among the possibilities of life, there are times that a Saber might give up his chance at life for a homunculus. Naturally, that means there are times when such is avoided. These stories need to be told just as much, and may be even more important. Siegfried-centric Great Holy Grail War.
1. Chapter 1

**Giving it a shot….A Fate fanfiction. I already regret it.**

 **Recently watched Fate/Apocrypha, and wasn't particularly fond of Sieg. I didn't hate him, but firmly felt he should have been the focus of a side plot. The homunculus attempting to save the homunculi. He just didn't have the** _ **impact**_ **to be the main character, and I** _ **did**_ **positively hate Sieg's 'romance' with Jeanne. It basically consisted (at least in the anime) of several bland exchanges that never really got into the nitty gritty of conflicting ideals or the challenges they were facing. Although I never liked Shirou either, so maybe I'm just weird. A friend told me the light novels handle Sieg better, but I've only finished the first novel. I might finish the translations in the future, but regardless I still decided to give a shot at this. A Great Holy Grail War with Siegfried as the main character.**

 **So several warnings just to get this stuff out of the way. Firstly, I do not own Fate. Anyone who thinks I or anyone else on this website does should probably not be on in the first place. Secondly, I will be keeping the pairing ambiguous to a degree. There won't be lemons, and my outline only has one true confession/romance. However there will be a number of hints of others and a general messiness as romance is never neat and clean. Really just depends on how much you choose to look into several more…ambiguous statements or relationships. Ignore it or read into it. Your choice. Thirdly, I'm going to have to flesh out some of the characters a bit. We really know very little of Siegfried, and this might provoke reactions from other characters in ways that aren't canon. I'll try to stick to source materials, but I'll naturally have to make some executive decisions as the author here. I welcome input on following canon material as well as incorporating their historical legends into the characters seamlessly, but there's the risk I might stray from what the head canon of you readers.**

* * *

 _Among the possibilities of life, there are times that a Saber might give up his chance at life for a homunculus. Naturally, that means there are times when such is avoided. These stories need to be told just as much, and may be even more important._

* * *

Being summoned was odd. Even as he feel himself being summoned into the container of a _Servant_ , his mind was barraged with a great multitude of information.

Some basic.

 _The Great Holy Grail War. Trifas. Yggdmillennia. The Black Faction. Saber._

Some fantastical.

 _Heroic Spirits. Legends. Wish-Granting Vessels._

Some just overwhelming.

 _History. Wars. The grandest victories. The most lamentable tragedies. The unimaginable growth of mankind despite its flaws and mistakes._

So much it should be utterly overwhelming, yet so subtly presented and underlined with the new existence he took so perfectly the new knowledge was merely like flexing a new limb. It would take time and effort for him to master its use, but it was still there for him to call upon in some form. A crucial tool to allow an ancient hero like himself to function in the modern world.

Once the swell of information subsided and the container that composed his Servant form was complete, Siegfried was finally able to open his eyes and look upon the world with his own eyes. They were in a grand throne room. Summoning circles and magic wards created from silver and gold lined the floor. Beings he could identify as homunculi cowered against the walls, from the tumultuous summoning and overpowering presences it had called forth.

These presences were what demanded his attention, only his innate battle awareness having taken note of the various minutiae of the room. At the head of the throne room, seated upon the throne was the one who undoubtedly ruled here. That Siegfried could sense him a servant was irrelevant. Dressed royally in clothes as black as night, with eerily pale skin and white hair like silk. Siegfried knew who he was. Yggdmillennia had clearly used the grail to implant the knowledge of just who was the leader of the Black Faction.

Vlad III, the greatest hero of Wallachia. He who fought the overwhelming Turks with sheer brutality to cross the numerical disparity, earning the name the 'Impaling Prince' in the process. A legend that would later be used to give birth to the myth of the vampire, Count Dracula.

He was obviously not the sole other Servant in this room which had just hosted a mass summoning.

One wearing a blue mantle and full-bodied suit, topped with a featureless mask, was by the wall. Clearly summoned before this, and merely observing with cool detachment.

A petite girl in a white dress, clutching a giant mace. Empty eyes roving the room.

An androgynous-looking boy, with pink hair and fancily dressed. Excited and beaming.

And finally a man with a bow. Simply dressed in a forest-colored cloak, he was kneeling on one knee.

The final feature, only of import due to Siegfried's current status as a Servant, were the masters. A dandy man with youthful looks but old eyes stood beside Lancer by the throne. A girl in a wheelchair. A woman with a clean appearance, but reeking of blood and death impossible for Siegfried with his dragon-enhanced senses to miss. A young man with freckles and a childish face, sweating from exertion. A child that should be too young to participate from a moral standard, standing next to the Servant next to the wall.

Yet most important for him, the one before him that was connected to Siegfried himself. His master in this Holy Grail War. A portly man with blonde hair and a full length, white and gold suit. A pompous nature was easy to see on his face.

Siegfried was far more interested in the contract that had already bound them together with the summoning though. While it was blatantly obvious to trace the connection to identify him as his master, there was subtler activity underneath. After slaying the evil dragon Fafnir and bathing in its blood and eating its heart, Siegfried had taken on certain draconic characteristics. While a poor compatibility with his master had resulted in his Servant form being deprived of or limiting some of those traits, besides the invulnerability his skin possessed, it didn't prevent Siegfried from being something more than human. In this case, a natural sensitivity to prana all dragonkin possessed allowed him to sense that his master was only providing the minimum amount of prana. The rest of the ample prana supply he could feel came from several different sources.

Siegfried chose not to dwell on it at the moment. A mere peculiarity that he instinctively noted.

All these observation occurred in a moment, subconsciously. After which he spoke in synch with the other Servants that had been summoned, "In accordance to the summons, we present ourselves – the Servants of Black. Our fates shall be with Yggdmillennia, and our swords will be as your swords."

After a solemn moment as everyone present reflected on the reality of six Heroic Spirits all being present in one room like this, the silence was inelegantly broken by an enthusiastic declaration, "Ah, should we introduce ourselves first? We should, shouldn't we? I'll start! Servant Rider-my name is Astolfo. What about you?"

With most of those present caught off guard, the one he had spoken too successfully recovered and actually answered, "I am Servant Archer. My name is Chiron."

"Thanks, Chiron," Astolfo said happily while holding out his hand. "Our time together may be short, but let's make the best of it."

Chiron accepted the handshake, but was clearly troubled. It was clarified though when the master by Vlad ordered coolly, "Do not use your true names, Rider. Call each other by your classes."

"Right, right," Rider replied nonchalantly as he turned to the girl dressed in white and asked, "And you?"

This time Rider's overture was rejected. The girl remained silent, merely shaking her head back and forth in refusal.

"Oh, I see. You can't talk, sorry. Hmm…Where's her master?" Rider incorrectly deduced before looking past her to fixate on the childish looking man. "You over there. What's her name?"

"Well, umm," the man hesitantly mumbled under the question. Finally despite the one he assumed to be Berserker still shaking her head, the man finally caved to the questions of the Heroic Spirit, "…Frankenstein."

"I see. Well, pleased to meet you, Fran-I mean, Berserker," Rider said happily, either ignorant or simply uncaring of Berserker's grunt of displeasure at her name. Probably inevitably, Rider now turned to Siegfried himself. "So, what's your name?"

Siegfried didn't even have a chance to consider whether to answer or nor before his master immediately snapped, "Stop, Saber. Do not speak." He quickly looked around as he continued, "I will not disclose the true name of my Servant to any one of you but Darnic."

That seemed to displease the other masters, but Siegfried himself was largely unbothered. While he likely wouldn't have concealed his true name to his allies in this Great Holy Grail War on principal, he understood the reasoning. The Holy Grail gave Siegfried a good understanding of his current legend in the world. While not totally true, inevitably tainted by evolving societal norms and skewed by time, enough was true to still matter.

The Dragon-Blooded Knight. A Prince of Xanter of many adventures whose most famous feat was slaying the evil dragon Fafnir with the holy sword of the Nibelungs, Balmung, and bathing in its blood to become invulnerable. An undefeated hero revered in Germany today, and Northern Europe due to his legend seemingly becoming mixed with the Old Norse hero Sigurd. Yet although unmatched, he died in his prime from a treacherous plot. Without giving off an unseemly figure or suffering defeat, he died from a blade of betrayal to his sole vulnerability while drinking water from a stream.

Indeed, Siegfried's legend so clearly spoke of such a weakness. A weakness so great even the weakest Heroic Spirit could kill him if stuck there. One that hadn't been exposed in life till his death. Due to this, one could argue that concealing his true name was of utmost importance. For Siegfried, the piece of info could certainly be the difference between victory and defeat.

Lancer and his master, Darnic, seemed to agree. Receiving their assent, his master moved out of the room with his head held high. Siegfried instinctively followed his pleased master out of the room and through the halls of the castle they were within. They finally appeared to have reached his master's room.

* * *

Once within the room, Gordes turned to survey his Servant. His appearance was majestic and magnificent, without a doubt. Tall and well-built, with silver armor on his arms and legs. Much of his torso was exposed though, exposing a figure suited for a Heroic Spirit and a green tattoo that seemed somehow more than that. Long silver hair fell down his back, and green eyes calmly surveyed the world around him. He would ensnare the eyes of any who saw him.

Nearly certain of himself before such a figure, Gordes still had to be sure. So he asked, "Answer me just one thing, Saber-your True Name is Siegfried, correct?"

Siegfried simply nodded.

Gordes smiled before he started racking his brains. It was all good and well to have summoned one of the greatest of Servants, and Siegfried was certainly just that, especially as the powerful Saber class, but his legend was known far and wide. And with it, his weak point. How long could they hide such a well-known yet deadly weak point?

Keeping it hidden was of the utmost importance.

With that intent in mind, Gordes spoke up imperiously, "Saber, from now on, keep your mouth shut unless you are unveiling your Noble Phantasm. You are allowed to speak only when I give permission to do so." Gordes also waved his hand, emphasizing the Command Spells to show the strictness of the order.

A tension soon appeared in the room.

For Gordes, it was imprinted in his mind that this was 'just a Servant'. A mere familiar, brought into this world by Gordes, his master. This was fact, at least to him.

Yet trepidation remained. No matter the form or relationship between them, the basic instinct of his body quailed before the being before him. Siegfried was a true Heroic Spirit, an existence on an altogether different plain from even magi, and this sense of supremacy was something Gordes couldn't self-consciously ignore. That knowledge, even buried underneath the sense of superiority and pride that Gordes' parents had cultivated in his, gave rise to a question of whether he could treat such a being so highhandedly.

Would _he_ forgive Gordes?

Interestingly, this tension was almost entirely one-sided on the side of Gordes. Despite his royal blood and leadership capabilities, Siegfried was at his base a hero who fulfilled the wishes and calls of others. In addition, Siegfried was called here as a Servant. His duty was to serve and aid the living. No command would be a burden to him if it still allows him to fulfill his own desires, and he acknowledged the necessity of concealing his identity. A command to not speak was something he would not dispute.

If Siegfried had nodded at that moment, things would have developed otherwise. It would have been so easy to happen. Gordes was insistent, and Siegfried was little bothered by the demand. That it would have been based upon and perpetuated a misunderstanding was something neither would know at the time nor would they till it was too late.

Yet the world turned, and that path passed them by. That point when _everything_ changed was not for man to pinpoint. Maybe Siegfried thought a mere moment too long. Maybe Gordes was patient a moment too little. Possibly the change happened earlier. A slight waver in the summoning chant by Gordes, a fluctuation in the summoning that altered Siegfried's mood enough for the taciturn man to delay speaking just enough or think slightly different this time. Or a shadow of a forgotten, maybe imaginary, event lingered in the depth of Siegfried's soul that was detached from the normal time axis…something less human and more…fantastic, whispered…asking what he wanted from this second chance.

And so Gordes cracked in face of Saber's failure to respond. His calm broke, and true to his character he reverted to that which he had lived his life as. An inordinately proud man, possibly to the point of not being able to separate dream from reality. 'I, who am the only first-class magus to be born of the once Great Musik clan and shall return it to greatness, shall not let this mere familiar challenge me.'

Such a thought was behind Gordes waving his Command Seals again and declaring, "That was an order, Saber. You need not do anything but obey."

The tension in the room rose at that, and Siegfried sternly met eyes with Gordes. For the first time since his summoning, Siegfried the Dragon-Slayer spoke, "I do not object to said order. Its necessity is both undeniable, and I do not on principal object to my status as your Servant. Neither do I have a wish upon the Grail that would sow discord between us two…However I am specifically here to _not_ merely obey."

Possibly due to Siegfried's own difficulties with proper communication or maybe it was merely Gordes' mood and pride that caused selective hearing, but only one statement mattered at that moment. Gordes huffed as he demanded, "You, a Servant, would refuse to obey me, your Master?!"

"Should the situation demand it, yes," Siegfried was blunt in his retort, although he at least tried to subsequently explain himself to bridge the gap that was opening up between them, "Besides potentially moral conflicts, the reality is that I am a Heroic Spirit. My experience and combat skills are on a point that I do not need interference from a modern magus, even if he be my Master."

Once again potentially due to Siegfried's failure to proper phrase his intent or due to Gordes' being confronted with his fight-or-flight instinct, the proud magus only registered part of what was said.

"You do not need?! It seems you misunderstand how this contract works, _Servant_. I am not the tool here, a mere prana battery so you can exist. You are the tool here, _Saber_ , a mere blade for me to wield as I see fit…And I do not need a blade that talks back," Gordes snarled out in outrage. His fight-or-flight instinct blaring at this point, his remaining thoughts knowing there were only two options before him. To back down like a dog, or force his Servant to understand who had the power between them. And so his hand raised, one of the Command Seals on his hand flashing…and an order was given, "Saber, by Command Seal I order you to no longer speak unless I give you permission to."

The alarmed, and simply genuinely caught off guard Siegfried-surely no one would waste such a precious resource as a Command Seal to avoid a mere argument-had no choice but to stand in indignation as the power of the Command flowed through his body. A hand instinctively shot to the hilt of Balmung over his shoulder from the sensation -knowledge- of being assaulted on some level, a move that caused Gordes to freeze out of fear he was about to be cut down before he could hope to use another Command Seal to restrain his Servant. However even this indignation was not enough for Siegfried to cross such a line. Both morally, and from acknowledging his strategic situation. Here, in the base of Yggdmillennia, striking down his master would risk his continued existence and at least remove any concept of trust with his allies that were crucial in a war like this.

And so Siegfried's hand fell of Balmung's hilt, Gordes relaxing at the move and drawing a wrong conclusion. Straightening, the Master of the two coughed before asking imperiously, "Are we done here?"

With a stiff jaw and blank face, Siegfried nodded with his ability to talk sealed. He then returned to Spirit Form, allowing himself to leave the room without wasting a moment. Gordes in turn sat back down on his chair, exhaustion from such a harrowing ordeal finally setting in. However he was able to bask in the victorious afterglow of bending his Servant to his will. It took a Command Seal, but with Siegfried submitted to his will it was a worthy sacrifice.

* * *

 _And thus a misunderstanding was born._

Gordes made the age old mistake of mistaking the lack of complaints voiced as a lack of complaints, and even took it a step further by believing that forcibly stopping anyone from voicing complaints was a genuine solution. He did not understand that Siegfried merely acknowledged that with his ability to speak sealed, it was pointless to continue any discussion. His Master's apparent willingness to use a Command Spell for such an occasion also spelled the end of communicating in the future. Thus only Siegfried left knowing that while the contract remained, trust was now missing.

It was a poor start for the relationship between the two, and called into question any future cooperation in a way Siegfried could not ignore.

* * *

 **There it is. The light novel just made the divergence point to perfect for me to resist. '**...If, at this very moment, he had resolutely refused to the point of Gordes perhaps choosing to use his Command Spells, his fate might have been different. But Siegfried chose to submit, as a Servant of the Saber class - whereas Gordes recognized this exchange as a Master bending said Servant to his will.  
In time, this misunderstanding between them will bring things to a fatal pass. **' I actually had a different premise planned for this story, but when I read the first light novel only a bit ago I just shifted everything because this fitted so much better.**

 **Unfortunately, despite deciding on such a subtle POD from the first light novel, I subsequently fell to my whim and decided to switch out Berserker of Red. Because the Red Faction needs more heavyweights, right (sarcasm)? I'm already set on which Heroic Spirit will be Red Berserker, although if enough people dislike this and want Spartacus I might cave.**

 **A lot of the first half of this chapter was rather blatantly copied from the light novel, merely from Siegfried's perspective. It was only during the argument between Siegfried and Gordes that I was able to start going off canon. As the story proceeds and events shift, I hope I'll be able to do this more. Until then, I'm going to skip any canon scenes since I don't feel like basically copying scenes word by word from the light novel. So Mordred's summoning, is entirely canon by this point. Only Berserker of Red is planned by this point to be non-canon by this point.**

 **Overall a bit of a short chapter, but I wanted to put the idea out there. Looking forward to any feedback I am lucky enough to receive.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A bit of a longer chapter, even if I think it is a bit of a boring one. Next chapter is the one where the divergences will really start to happen. Oh well, until then I hope this chapter is at least somewhat entertaining.**

* * *

It had been an awkward yet illuminating time for Siegfried, Saber of Black, since his summoning.

It shouldn't have been so. He was not such a person that needed much to satisfy himself. He would think little of simply guarding his Master for days on end, and his current state as a Servant even removed his need for sustenance and other such bodily impediments. Yet Siegfried could not deny that after the…complications following his summoning, he had little desire to spend more time around his Master than necessary. Fortress Millennia had enough bounded fields and assorted defenses that not even an Assassin class could sneak in undetected, removing the need to constantly protect his Master.

Gordes too seemed to think similarly. Or at least was of a mind that he cared little for what his Servant was up to as long as he responded whenever he desired Siegfried's presence. The prana supplied through the altered lines-a maneuver that Siegfried had since learned of- also removed any concern regarding the additional prana demand from keeping a Servant materialized.

Thus Siegfried found himself the unexpected task of finding something to devote his time to. It was one thing to ignore boredom or inactivity when doing something like guarding someone, but another thing to endure it when there was no such duty. Siegfried didn't exactly know what to think of the fact that he wasn't quite sure what to do. It wasn't like he could go off on an adventure or could start assisting the locals, and it was to his chagrin that Siegfried was forced to acknowledge there was not much else he had a habit of doing.

With his ability to speak restricted by Command Seal, anything that involved communication was hindered. Siegfried was not a magus in life, and so could not assist in that regard. Guarding the walls of Fortress Millennia was largely pointless with all the defenses, and Archer was naturally better suited as a sentry.

By necessity, Siegfried had occupied himself with the well-stocked library more than he would have originally guessed he would. While educated in life, he had involved himself in more physical labors and troubles. However the Grail had gifted him with the language capabilities to function in Romania, and so the plentiful reading material was a natural remedy for the boredom he was confronting. The Grail provided only general information and that which was needed to function in current times. It had been very easy for Siegfried to start expanding that amount with additional knowledge.

Naturally, it wasn't always enough. Siegfried didn't desire to be around his own Master, and there truly was no reason to be around the other Yggdmillennia Masters. Thus his fellow Heroic Spirits were all that remained.

Lancer and Archer devoted most of their time to business. They spoke to the excess Yggdmillennia magi that currently guarded and safeguarded Trifas for information, setting up tactical plays, plugging strategic weaknesses, and simply organizing and cataloging their available resources for the war. Unfortunately, Siegfried couldn't participate due to being rendered mute. Not that they requested his help regardless.

Caster was utterly consumed with producing golems in his workshop, a fact that was sensible. While possessing of low defensive capabilities, Caster in his workshop could produce thirty high quality golems a day. Siegfried naturally had no business intruding there, and honestly had little interest as well in their sculpting of bronze and stone into facsimiles of the living.

Berserker was as speechless as Siegfried. If only due to commiseration, Siegfried had spent time accompanying her. Berserker had not objected to his presence, and so Siegfried had spent some time merely sitting-and occasionally helping- as the serene Berserker picked flowers. However while mutual silence did bring a certain tranquility between them, and maybe even a sliver of understanding, it was not the best method of occupying oneself. At least for Siegfried, picking flowers or simply relaxing in a meadow was not entirely to his taste.

With their faction's Assassin still not present, that left but one option.

"Aw, this sucks! What could they ever want? I wanted to go back into town before my Master calls me again," Rider declared childishly as the two walked down one of the hallways of the castle after an announcement had gone out for all the Masters and Servants to gather in the throne room. Quickly changing mood from annoyed to curious, Rider continued talking to the unresponsive Saber of their faction. "So what do you think it is we're doing? Maybe we're going to go on the attack! The enemy will never expect it. Well? Oh yeah, you can't talk. That must suck. My Master might be licking me and stuff, but yours seemingly just cares about how well you can use that massive sword of yours…Oh wow, that sounded dirty-Hehe."

While Siegfried could easily say that Rider wasn't his usual type of companion, circumstances had deemed it so here. After an awkward start, things had eased up after Rider managed to figure out Siegfried genuinely couldn't talk and wasn't just ignoring him. Afterwards the animated Servant had adapted quickly.

It appeared someone incapable of talking and someone able to hold entire conversations by themselves without stopping worked well enough for even two vastly different personality to mesh.

Even if Siegfried wouldn't know how to respond to half the things Rider talked about even if he could, his fellow Servant was if nothing else capable of filling the silence. Rider was also entertaining to watch or keep track of. Despite his Masters strict…interest in him and basic common sense in not exposing himself by leaving the castle, nothing could stop Rider from slipping out from the castle whenever he had the opportunity. Enjoying the luxuries of life was very clearly Rider's top priority. He had tried to even get Siegfried to do so as well, but while Rider had a build that meant he could simply 'requisition' some of the clothes used by the homunculi, Siegfried couldn't. Rider even bought clothes for him while in town, but Siegfried had still refused.

The crossdressing hero might have had more luck if he hadn't fallen to whimsy in the process, and bought Siegfried a hot pink and -bedazzled- shirt.

Finally the unlikely duo arrived in the throne room. Just seconds after them, Berserker and her Master arrived to finish the gathering. Siegfried seamlessly moved to a position to the side and slightly behind his Master. He then turned to where Lancer was seated in the throne.

"Our enemy has made a move. A single Master and Servant pair appear to be scouting Trifas for the enemy faction. We shall use this opportunity to gather our own information on the enemy," Lancer informed the group. He then nodded to Caster and ordered, "Begin the assault."

Caster nodded wordlessly. A nearby Menorah soon became the focus of the spell, and from the flames a moving image was projected on the wall. It was showing the perspective of a flying golem, giving them an aerial view as a force of combat homunculi and golems sallied out to ambush the Servant and Master. The resulting scene was a massacre, and not one favoring the Black Faction.

Siegfried in particular focused on the Servant, it being relatively easy to identify them as the enemy Saber. The short, metal bound warrior blew right through the golems. The constructs that could likely each match a truly elite magus of today were shattered as if they were made of mere paper and wood. The enemy's movements were neither graceful nor measured, instead being akin to a wild beast. Siegfried actually had to entertain the possibility that this was a Berserker with a low ranking Madness Enhancement. Even their bloodlust was near palpable despite the indirect means of observation. The two handed sword was wielded with one hand recklessly, and even thrown away at one point. They then caught the punch of a golem, and with a roar actually physically threw it away.

The enemy Master he observed from the side of his eyes. A necromancer. It appeared he utilized what appeared to be fingers, likely that of magi, shot from a gun to carry a curse of some kind. He also utilized an improvised grenade fashioned from a human heart, utilizing teeth and fingernails as shrapnel. The homunculi were quickly cut down against the clearly skilled magus.

It was over in practically an instant. The group then watched in silence as the Master and Servant briefly examined the remains of the golems, before they left once the countermeasures activated that reduced the golems to dust and ash. Even when the retreating enemy Servant shed their armor, revealing themselves to be a young girl wearing skimpy clothing, the show appeared over. The image disappeared.

The Masters in the room, besides Darnic, were left shivering and intimidated by the entire display. While they were largely composed of some of the best Yggdmillennia, the difference between even a first class magi and one of the elites of combat was vast. The enemy Master was no doubt beyond the majority of them. The enemy Saber didn't even need explaining. The bloodlust had seemingly reached the Masters here, fortress and defenses be damned.

"I suppose this is to be expected of Servant Saber," Lancer began calmly.

His unmoved Master nodded and elaborated, "Strength rank B+, Endurance rank A, Agility rank B, Prana rank B…aside from Luck, all her parameters rank above C. Truly fitting for a Heroic Spirit of the Sword. Of note is that a certain sections of her parameters are hidden."

"And what of our own Servants? Saber, do you believe you can defeat this knight?" Lancer questioned.

Siegfried just nodded.

What an odd question. It was the nature of Heroic Spirits, possibly of humanity as a whole, to struggle against and overcome the odds. Asking if one could prove triumphant was near redundant. Any attempt to clarify was impossible for him though, and someone of Lancer's stature should know to be specific anyways.

 _Would he more likely than not prove victorious if he met them in combat_? That was a different question. Siegfried was definitely not the inferior in regards to skill with a blade based on that display, and despite the similar physical parameters he was almost certain he would still have the edge. Yet the enemy's bloodlust could not be discounted. She'd surely tear out an enemy's throat with her teeth if it meant victory, and that aggressive fighting style could only be developed by one who devoted themselves wholly and totally to the fight. One such as that would fight even if victory was a distant dream, struggling tooth and nail for that dream. Such determination could not be quantified.

The last time Siegfried could say he fought with such zeal was against Fafnir, a fight by all rights he should never have won yet obviously did.

Such considerations ran through Siegfried's mind as the rest of the room talked more about Saber, and then her master. One Shishigou Kairi. A freelance magus, a revelation that both confused and infuriated the more traditional magus of the room.

"Battle approaches," Lancer finally whispered with a smirk, still being heard by those present who couldn't deny such.

Possibly it was that realization that caused Gordes to bark out, "Saber, come one. We shall be the ones to initiate the opening salvo."

Saber merely flowed to his position behind his Master, the operation either planned in advance or promptly allowed as Lancer didn't attempt to stop them. Siegfried himself didn't disagree with such a move. Despite their disagreements, if nothing else his Master possessed courage. He had quite clearly been intimidated by Red Saber's ferocity, but Siegfried had been easily able to ascertain his Master was boldest when afraid. When confronted with his fight-or-flight instinct, he was a man that would fight. Arguably the very definition of courage. While not exactly the smartest move when dealing with Heroic Spirits to lash out when intimidated, it was not something Siegfried could honestly find distasteful in and of itself.

* * *

Ruler.

A special Servant class. The Holy Grail might not truly have a mind, but there was undoubtedly some sense of 'will' present within the Grail. As well as an inborn 'logic' inherent in its being as a construct of thaumaturgy and ritual. To resist encroachment upon its design or uphold its purpose, the Grail was capable of summoning a Ruler class as its own impartial mediator towards the ritual of the Holy Grail War. The overseer assigned by the Holy Church was nothing more than outside interference, a retroactive attempt by the Three Great Families to legitimize their creation. That the current overseer sent by the church was a Master of the Red Faction only proved how false and shallow this role was in reality. Ruler was the sole neutral authority recognized by the Grail, a Servant called upon solely to protect the integrity of the Holy Grail War itself.

The current situation was clear as well. Typically a Holy Grail War was a fight for dominance between seven Servants and Masters. The abnormality of the current situation couldn't be understated, fourteen Servants called upon and divided into two separate factions that would battle it out in an even greater War. It was too great a change to be ignored.

Indeed, it was near an impossibility that a Ruler _wouldn't_ be summoned when one considered the situation.

This was all explained to Siegfried in clipped words by his Master, the gaps easy enough for Siegfried to fill in by both basic deduction and the information he obtained from the Grail upon being summoned. The reaction of Yggdmillennia to these assumptions was easy enough to guess. Here on their home turf, they had a web of information that had informed them when this fifteenth Servant arrived in Romania. Gordes and Siegfried were there to -greet- her, and head off any similar such attempt by the enemy.

"Those dogs of the Mage's Association will surely move against Ruler. The Mage's Association acknowledges no higher authority than itself, no matter their supposed allowance for the Holy Church to mediate in the Holy Grail War. A mere empty concession offered to an organization they've long since come to terms with. A truly impartial mediator with absolute 'privilege' to punish the participants is not something they'll tolerate. We shall assure Ruler's safety, and once protected within Fortress Millennia Ruler will be able to ensure the integrity of this celebrated contest of thaumaturgy and strategy," his Master ranted haughtily as they approached the Transylvania Motorway-the only highway to Trifas-.

They should have already arrived, but one of Gordes' talents didn't happen to be the ability to travel quickly and he refused to be carried by Siegfried. He however had just sent a familiar to scout ahead to ensure their lateness didn't prove decisive in this act, looking through its eyes-and allowing Siegfried to as well from their own ability to share senses-. When it arrived, they were treated to their first glimpse of Ruler.

As well as the Servant currently talking to her.

"Damn it. We need to hurry, Saber," Gordes grunted out and actually sped up an appreciable degree. Siegfried moved quicker, arriving at a vantage point that allowed him to survey the situation with his own eyes. The enemy Servant, who could only be a Lancer with the glorious spear he had summoned, was gathering such an immense amount of prana that it could only mean he was about to unleash his Noble Phantasm as his first strike. Siegfried's hand raised to his sword and he prepared to move, Gordes' shout of 'Do it, Saber' mere retroactive approval as he had already started moving even if his Master wouldn't have been able to appreciate the difference.

Siegfried moved not directly at his opponent, not with so much prana able to be redirected to counter an attack. Instead he went below him, Balmung slicing through the base of the highway sign Lancer was standing upon. The loss of his footing forced Lancer to abandon the attack to recover, although even then he landed calmly and without any opening Siegfried could have taken advantage of.

"You…" Lancer spoke up coolly, surveying Siegfried as Gordes arrived to Saber's side. "You are the Saber of Black, then. Nothing else could fit with that degree of pressure coming from such an imposing sword."

Not even going to try and lie about the obvious deduction, he just nodded.

"So your objective is Ruler, as well."

Gordes used this opportunity to step forward and assert himself despite the pressure of the three Servants, "You looked to have been in trouble, O Ruler."

With Lancer having looked away towards Ruler, Siegfried allowed himself to do the same-having known beyond a doubt that taking his eyes off his opponent could have been fatal against the one before him-. Ruler was a young woman, wearing a battle-dress with interwoven armor plates. In her hand was clasped a battle standard that he could instantly identify as a Noble Phantasm.

Just looking upon it gave Siegfried a niggling in the back of his mind that he could most likely identify it upon sight. She and it must be incredibly famous if Siegfried could already almost identify it despite her not being from his era. Typically one had to hear a Noble Phantasm's True Name to drag out the information from all the legends the Grail grants them.

She stoically nodded in response to Gordes' question, and remarked coolly, "You are the Master of Saber of the Black Camp, yes?"

"Yes…My names is Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia, and I am participating in this Great Holy Grail War as Master of the Saber of Black. Now…" After that grandiose introduction, Gordes turned with a grin to point at Lancer while declaring accusingly, "Vile Lancer of the Red Camp. We have witnessed your attempt on Ruler's life. Plotting the erasure of the Heroic Spirit that guides the Holy Grail War in an utter transgression. This cannot be forgiven with a mere penalty. So stand and prepare to accept the sentence delivered by both Saber _and_ Ruler."

Gordes words, despite no doubt making sense to him as Lancer's attack had clearly been intended for Ruler, only drew a sharp glance from Ruler who immediately retorted, "Saber of the Black and Lancer of the Red-I have no objections to a battle between the two of you here. However I assure you, I will not be involved."

"…Huh?" was the only response Gordes could give to this unexpected move.

"Lancer's attempt on my life has absolutely nothing to do with a battle between the two of them. As Ruler, it is my duty to protect the veracity of this conflict," she explained bluntly.

Gordes very clearly had no response to this. Not having expected such and not understanding what judgements she was basing her decisions upon, his clear weakness regarding his narrow-minded view was apparent. He couldn't understand how she could simply wait till the one attempting to kill her potentially was able to try so again.

"So you were attempting to tilt the situation in your favor by having me face two opponents? Is victory the only thing you care for? How despicable-although I guess that is a form of warfare," Lancer spoke up again. Siegfried was amused slightly by his remarks on caring solely for victory, what with Lancer himself having been about to attack an impartial figure-a move with no motivation except if his faction was planning on violating the rules of the War and couldn't allow Ruler to counter them with her 'privilege'. Siegfried didn't have any space himself in that regard, what with his own faction no doubt hoping to pen Ruler in to their own advantage as well, but it was a sliver of amusement regardless. Lancer meanwhile continued, "It makes little difference to me."

The confidence Lancer spoke with left Gordes at a loss for words, even after the previous insults. Lancer was entirely calm and self-assured as his claim of indifference to facing two Servants at once. Even Siegfried could not detect any haughtiness or arrogance in his words, merely a statement of simple truth. It didn't make it true of course, but Lancer clearly believed it the truth that he could face both Saber and Ruler at once.

That quiet confidence affected Gordes, even from behind the back of the Servant he had all confidence in. However as had already been established of his character, these feelings soon turned into anger and defiance and Gordes ordered, "Kill him, Saber! Crush that Lancer into the ground."

Having never dropped his guard, Siegfried just nodded at the order. He then strode forward, lightly and without fear. Just as Lancer had his own confidence, he himself had his own. This duel would show which one of them was correct in that confidence and which one was not.

"…Very well. This duel is ours, Saber of the Black," Lancer uttered. Siegfried couldn't help smiling slightly as he got into a more blatant sword stance. That smile seemed to fascinate even the apathetic Lancer though, and he continued speaking, "I have met a man like you once. He had the same gaze as you. It is beyond doubt that he was a true hero, and for you to look upon me with the same eyes…This battle between us is not mere chance, but an inevitability."

Siegfried listened calmly to his enemies' words, respecting them even if he did not understand them beyond the surface. Maybe more important was the pressure Lancer started to put out, his desire for combat blazing like the sun. In face of that, he could only respond. Energy vibrated in Balmung, and a burning smell permeated the air between them as if it was burning. Ruler and Gordes, both with living flesh and blood, backed up as their instincts told them they were too close to this clash. Whether their weapons or fighting spirit, the clash had already begun. Neither a physical clash nor one of thaumaturgy, but still the world around them was affected. Finally, the two struck.

Lancer's spear roared, cleaving the air apart.

Balmung shrieked, cutting the wind.

The two Phantasmal weapons clashed, the contact sending a shockwave roaring outwards, and they were off. Neither roared, nor did they scream or yell. The only sound between the two was from their weapons once again being wielded in this world. Sparks flew through the air as the two enormous forces fought and resisted.

Lancer obviously had the range advantage, with that spear forged by the gods. The head alone was over a meter in length, and its immense weight combined with Lancer's transcendent skill in wielding it firmly surpassed the realm of humanity. Siegfried however received the barrage of thrusts, his own swordsmanship having surpassed the realm of mankind as well.

Siegfried then took the next step in the conflict, both figuratively and literally. He moved forward. Making use of every gap in thrusts from the inevitable demand in time for such a long spear to be pulled back and moving his own sword as little as possible to maintain his defense, he moved directly into the barrage. This recklessness ensured his defense would fail, for not even Siegfried could maintain a defense as he moved forward against a spearman who had penetrated so far into the domain of the gods.

In an instant, Lancer made contact with seventy-eight thrusts. Arteries were cut, tendons targeted, and his forehead pierced. Yet it was in this instant that Siegfried countered. Having moved forward throughout these attacks, Balmung roared as it lashed out and connected with his opponent's golden armor.

The two separated, Siegfried having achieved his aim and Lancer falling back in confusion from receiving damage after delivering so many fatal strikes. Lancer looked at Siegfried before remarking, "Those wounds are shallow."

Siegfried was also shocked, but for different reasons. Lancer was just as unbothered by his assault, although that wasn't as surprising. That brilliant golden armor was far from subtle. While Siegfried hadn't expected for his strikes with a sword like Balmung to do as little damage as they did, that the armor had defensive capabilities equal to its appearance was an easy enough fact to accept with the clear evidence of so.

What was more shocking and impactful for Siegfried was that he himself was harmed as well. After killing Fafnir, Siegfried had bathed in its blood among other things. This had given his skin the strength of a dragon's scales, which had manifested in this state as the Noble Phantasm, _Armor of Fafnir_. A passive, continuously active Noble Phantasm that completely nullified all B-rank attacks and B+ ranked Noble Phantasms. To harm him required A-rank attacks, something beyond even the vast majority of Heroic Spirits, and even then the damage was reduced by the margin of a B ranked attack-rendering even A ranked attacks to irrelevant E ranked ones. Despite Lancer wielding what was clearly an inactive Noble Phantasm, no doubt increasing the power of his attacks, that weapon alone would not be enough to pierce the skin of a dragon. To successfully harm him even the slightest bit in all of those seventy-eight strikes could only be a result of Lancer's own strength and transcendent technique.

 _Incredible…_

Siegfried's fighting spirit only grew fiercer as these developments sank into his mind. He could only feel joy in the face of such a mighty figure. Ever since defeating that evil dragon, Siegfried lost the opportunity to once again feel the sensation of struggling against death. His invincible body had rendered all challenges moot. Never once had he been defeated afterwards. Not once harmed-not until he allowed that javelin to sink into the weak point on his back. Siegfried had merely butchered those he fought, the lack of struggle or risk rendering combat a mere chore.

 _Yet here I witness that spear piercing my dragon armor…what divine skills…_

 _Just how many legends must this man have created? Just how many trials has he overcome to come this far?_

These questions demanded answers, and Siegfried's desire to fight him only increased. Lancer seemed to have come to a similar conclusion within his own thoughts. They both desire to fight, to indulge in the combat one only feels when during rare fights like these. They nodded at each other wordlessly, not needing words now. Their weapons lash out once again, crossing once again.

And with this first clash of Heroic Spirits, the Great Holy Grail War had truly begun.

* * *

The clash between Saber and Lancer was long, and fitting of two uncommon Heroic Spirits. Lancer's every thrust was like cannon fire, throwing out roaring gusts. Saber's sword slashed the wind and cleaved the dark. Every attack met its opposite, meeting and withdrawing in coordination, the two fighters entwined in a dance of combat and will.

Dozens of small cuts were engulfed in light on both fighters. The strikes that should have ripped limbs and shorn bone reduced by their defense, instead healing near instantly from healing thaumaturgy. The ephemerality of the wounds might make some inclined to believe the clash was pointless, but that was certainly not the case for the two fighting.

Siegfried was not given even the slightest moment to rest by Lancer, and he made sure to do the same to his enemy. The two had fallen into a rhythm by this point, but it was not due to any sense of laxness on their parts, but from the skill of each fighter. Both had attempted to shift the flow of combat in their favor, but each time had found themselves matched or countered. If they had fallen into a rhythm, it was because both fighters had acknowledged that the current pace was their only option.

Siegfried could have defended himself if he kept out of Karna's most effective range, but he would have forfeited any opportunity to attack. His attempts to bypass Lancer's defenses were blocked, and so Siegfried inevitably waded into his enemies' defense. Doing everything possible to defend himself, and always failing before such an opponent. Yet defended by his dragon armor, he closed the distance without falling to bring his sword to bear against the golden armor of his enemy. Lancer in turn could have used his superior agility to keep his distance, but even he could not put Siegfried into his most effective range without allowing Siegfried the chance to close. To pierce Siegfried's defense required him to forgo defense for offense. Siegfried took damage, only to inflict damage. It is possible that without his _Armor of Fafnir_ Siegfried would have been cut down before he could return the favor, but such thoughts had no place on the battlefield. So they clashed, barely wounded the other, healed, and clashed once again. Any attempt to deviate from this was proved pointless by dozens of attempts throughout their prolonged bout.

Not that this diminished the clash to any degree. Nay, even the gods would have been entranced. The clash between two such individuals could simply play out in such a way. Both knowing their limits, their strengths and weaknesses, and expertly fighting in such a way that even the other was only able to bring about minor injuries that were ignored.

Fending off three dozen strikes that came near simultaneously, Siegfried angled his shoulder so that the strike he couldn't block cut the top before another shift thrust the tip of the spear upwards. Stepping in to a range the spear was too large to work effectively, Balmung rose in an upward slash that Lancer couldn't block. The insignificant cut it inflicted along his torso though did nothing to hinder Lancer, who used an elbow to push Siegfried's arm into overextending after the slash while spinning his spear to use the middle of the spear as a staff to hit the back of his shoulder. Siegfried used that momentum to spin into a three-quarters slash against Lancer's side, but even the lightning fast move in Siegfried's arsenal needed to travel too long to possibly hit someone as agile and skilled as Lancer. A flip-almost too graceful to ever imagine a human pulling off-allowed him to flow over the horizontal strike and a subsequent kick caught Siegfried in the side. While too weak to hurt Siegfried even the slightest, that was clearly not its purpose. More to push himself off and away from Siegfried, he was then able to once again lash out in a series of strikes Siegfried was unable to completely block while at his optimum range to use his spear. His position in midair hindering him none at all, Lancer using the push back from thrusting such a large weapon to fuel his momentum in a way that seemed to directly oppose physics. Two small wounds, one a slice on his ribs and another a thrust to the back of his right hand after a failed attempt to cut the tendons of his thumb, appeared on Siegfried's body even as the majority were fended off.

Choosing to attack before his enemy could get his footing back, Siegfried leaped forward with enough force to let out a shockwave. Diving into a gap between the attacks of Lancer, who was attempting to halt his forward movement, and ignoring several that got through Siegfried got right under Karna. Although from a position with his back to the ground and facing a falling Lancer, he was able to unleash an attack that even when blocked sent Lancer flying straight up. He then followed with a mighty leap, his own controlled ascent giving the superior position to Lancer's involuntary one.

Of course this mattered little as Lancer's spear and body were surrounded by blazing flames, and Siegfried only found a wall of flame to meet him. The dense flames actually pushed him back, even if they failed to burn him. Landing heavily while the flames consumed his immediate surroundings, he watched as Lancer had a controlled landing a short distance in front of him. Even as the flames died around the Lancer, the grass at his feet burned to ash in an instant.

Siegfried held himself back from closing the distance again, allowing his Master time to heal the multitude of wounds he had accrued with healing thaumaturgy. Lancer didn't close either, deciding to follow in his steps. Considering at one point his Master had attempted and failed to draw out Lancer's Master, Lancer must be powerfully bound to his master and well supplied with prana to be able to heal so well with a Master that didn't appear present. Siegfried's mind was using this opportunity for all it was worth to breathe deeply and think over the situation.

Siegfried wasn't tired physically, he could easily handle three days of such combat, but a clash such as this was exhausting in other ways. Siegfried couldn't deny that Lancer had superior skill to himself. Where Siegfried became unparalleled after killing Fafnir, and so was never challenged again, he could tell from Lancer's thrusts that his enemy had endured battles of this intensity even after reaching this level of strength. Sheer combat experience favored his enemy, without a doubt. That fire too while not intense enough to harm Siegfried at the moment, certainly gave his opponent a combat flexibility-which included aerial movement capabilities- he himself couldn't match.

Yet he was still confident. Siegfried could tell based on the slightest signs that in a battle of endurance, he was the superior here. Beyond the fact that Siegfried had a comparatively infinite amount of energy supplied from the Yggdmillennia homunculi compared to Lancer who had only a single magus, even if an incredibly elite one, to supply him, it was a matter of the flesh. Siegfried hadn't just bathed in Fafnir's blood, he had drank it and consumed the dragon's heart upon its own dying words. Its blood penetrated his entire body, organs included. While not all of the advantages this had conveyed had manifested in his current Servant form, there was enough. Even if he suspected his opponent had godly blood, Siegfried was sure his body was the tougher of the two. It might not matter since a battle of attrition would almost certainly be rendered unsettled once Noble Phantasms came into play, it still played a part in convincing Siegfried he wasn't at a disadvantage in the current clash.

However he would not find out if he was correct in that belief or not. Time waits for no man, not even Heroic Spirits, and their extended conflict had consumed hours already. The sky was lightening.

Feeling this, Lancer announced without a sign of having just fought for several hours, "At this rate, we will be fighting under the sun. Though that's of little concern to me, what of you and your wearied Master?"

Without waiting for his Masters command, Siegfried put away his sword. Despite Gordes courage, or presumption, being forced to merely watch a battle of Servants had removed his ability to intervene meaningfully while also forcing him to bear witness to their strength. Siegfried had been a bit worried he might use a Command Seal since he had already shown himself a bit too loose in their use previously, but he either hadn't thought of it or had been too intimidated to interject himself in the fight between the two Servants. This largely left the decision up to Siegfried, and while Lancer was an immense threat to the Black camp any extension or escalation of this conflict would surely incorporate Noble Phantasms. While that would surely be necessary at some point, it wasn't here. Siegfried wouldn't expose his identity for what was a skirmish, even if that skirmish included such an exquisite duel.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the invisible control of the Command Seal asserted itself and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Annoyance actually filled him at that. Preventing one's identity from being deduced by stopping any involuntary confessions made sense, but not being able to talk at all was just inconvenient at times like this.

Lancer thankfully seemed to realize Siegfried couldn't talk, and spoke up himself, "I have never been good at communication, so we seem similar in that at the moment. Still, luck has been on my side. I am grateful from the bottom of my heart that the first of my battles was with you, Saber of the Black."

Siegfried could only nod with a slight smile, hoping his own similar feelings were received. Thankfully, they did seem to come to an understanding without words needing to be said. Both understood and saw the others as an enemy Servant, but that was all the more reason for them to share this bond. A bond between warriors. An innocent, even adolescent hope that they would fight again and if defeated would only be felled at the other's hands.

"Farewell, Saber," Lancer said, before returning to Spirit Form. Siegfried could only be mournful at the end of the battle, the rising sun signaling a new day that ended their conflict for now.

"…A splendid battle. As one would expect from the greatest hero of Germany," Ruler spoke up to break the silence. He could only nod in response.

The battle over and with it his composure returned, Gordes once again entreated Ruler, "O Ruler, would you come with us now? If you wish to continue surveying the war in Trifas, I can assure you that the Fortress of Millennia will be most welcoming to a guest such as-"

"I must decline. That would go against my impartiality. You need not worry for me, my powers of detection are many, many times beyond a normal Servant. I will be able to make my own way to any battle occurring within Trifas," Ruler replied curtly and firmly.

Gordes was clearly not pleased, to say the least. His objective to secure Ruler was clearly a failure, even if Siegfried could restrain her Gordes was the type of magus who would never risk the secrecy of magecraft by acting in the daylight. His contribution to the fight had also been nil. A mere undignified attempt to taunt the enemy Master to show themselves, before being subsequently ignored. His shoulders were trembling in what was clearly shame as he walked away while calling out, "We're leaving, Saber."

With his Master putting forth such a poor figure, Siegfried decided to try and put out a better impression. Turning to Ruler, he put a closed hand to his chest and gave a short bow. His expression as he looked at her was too dignified to be considered sheepish or even outright apologetic, but was clearly penitent for any slight shown towards her. She merely nodded back in quiet acceptance of the thought, her battledress dissolving to reveal casual clothes.

Thus Siegfried turned and followed his Master, actually quite happy with how this outing went. While his Master seemingly was accepting of Ruler's duty and believed, potentially naively, that she could perform said duty as the fortress, Siegfried himself was not so sure Lancer or Darnic would allow such a powerful factor to be in their perimeter without trying to influence it. Siegfried was actually similar to Gordes in that he wanted this war to primarily be a standup contest of combat, and so such tactics as attempting to influence Ruler didn't appeal to him. So that he was able to avoid being put into a situation where Gordes might have tried to force him to restrain Ruler while also having such a magnificent and challenging bout with Lancer was about as well as ideal a resolution as he could ask for.

Could it be that the curse of the Rheinegold was not as potent in this form, since he wasn't summoned with the ability to use Das Rheingold as a Noble Phantasm?

* * *

He really should have known better. While before slaying Fafnir he had welcomed complications as challenges to be overcome, afterwards the curse of the Rheingold too often made new challenges those that couldn't be solved easily and could never end well. Challenges like Lancer were nothing in comparison to the one Rider had seemingly decided to present to him on a whim.

They were in Archer's room, said Servant off to the side with a vaguely amused expression as if he was intimately aware of Siegfried's thoughts. On the bed was a thin homunculus, the one they had all been made aware of had escaped. He appeared to be frozen in terror, no doubt Siegfried looking as if he could crush him with ease.

When Siegfried sent him a deadpan look, Rider could only laugh childishly as he tried to explain himself, "Sorry, sorry. He just looked so weak though when I saw him, and he then asked me to save him. How could I refuse that face, even if it is a bit creepy in that 'homunculus' way? I'm not good with stuff like this though. It would be a very bad idea to leave this entirely to me. Archer's helping, and I was thinking that my oh-so reliable Saber buddy could pitch in since you are clearly so bored as to listen to me for as much as you do. Plus, you can't even talk. If anyone asks you anything, all you do is stay silent and intimidating. It's perfect. Come one, come on, come on! He's like a baby. How can we _not_ save him, as Heroic Spirits?!"

Siegfried could only sigh at that.

 _Why did he have to phrase it like that?_

 _Now I can't refuse._

* * *

 **Writing a story with a man character incapable of speaking is** _ **hard**_ **. Too much internal monologue.**

 **Otherwise, most of this chapter was the fight with Karna. Unfortunately, it was basically entirely canon. I'm not too confident with fight scenes, and it didn't help that this fight amounted to half a page in the light novels (with about half of** _ **that**_ **being mere one sentence paragraphs). I attempted to expand, but basically just created filler thoughts. Hopefully the next fight will be better, but any advice will be appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**...I have no excuse for taking four weeks to put this out. It is all the first scene's fault though. I wrote the rest of this in three days. The first scene though genuinely stumped me.**

 **Hope the chapter is enjoyable though, despite the wait.**

* * *

Siegfried wasn't sure whether to be displeased or amused by the turn of events he found himself involved in. Few Servants would expect upon being summoned for a Holy Grail War that they would end up gathering flowers. Yet, here he was.

Siegfried had originally intended upon relaxing after the stressful situation Rider had foisted upon him, and as part of that he had chosen to join the company of Berserker in a garden just outside the castle. The mad warrior was a good companion if one wished for peace, despite the moniker of her class. The fittingly silent yet abnormally serene Berserker had seemed an ideal companion to Siegfried, likely to let him read in peace.

This time he had taken a history book talking about the Dutch Golden Age from the Yggdmillennia library in the castle. It did Siegfried some good to know his homeland had such a time of prosperity, despite the difficulties it had also experienced. The opportunity to learn about what became of one's home might not be what most Heroic Spirits envisioned upon being summoned, but Siegfried had personally found it to be one of the more fulfilling aspects of being summoned so far.

Although, admittedly, that might partially be attributed to his strained interactions with his Master, but the point remained. History had quickly come to dominate the topics he perused. Dutch history was simply a small part close to his heart.

Unfortunately, circumstances didn't permit him the serenity to read in peace this time. While typically Berserker was an unobtrusive companion, she was not immune to the erraticism of Mad Enhancement…Or it might be that she had decided that if he was going to intrude upon her own peacetime, she was deserved something in return. Either way, Berserker had silently but clearly demanded for him to participate alongside her.

Considering her legend and her habit of furiously ripping apart flowers that seemingly didn't meet whatever her criteria entailed, Siegfried decided it was smarter to just acquiesce.

And thus a dragon-slayer found himself kneeling on the ground, carefully selecting from the abundant flowers for those that stood out. He didn't take the task half-heatedly, both to not anger Berserker and from his own innate work ethic on performing each task he underwent seriously. So he made sure not to step or kneel on any of the flowers, sort out those with any noticeable damage, and carefully lay the picked flowers down in such a way as to ensure to best display them safely.

Oh well. There were worse ways to spend one's time, at least for Siegfried. Dragons had an intrinsic connection to nature and the world in a way humans can't contemplate, and Siegfried had gained some semblance of such that connection from Fafnir at the cost of his humanity. The moments of peace when he was surrounded by nature alone while traveling to and from the tasks given to him by others had been one of his few comforts later in his life.

And it appeared Berserker was approving of the job he was doing. On her hands and knees, she leaned over to examine those flowers he had picked with a seemingly approving moan. Looking at him intensely and silently for a moment, she retreated for several moments only to return. This time she had a white flower in her hand, which she then all but shoved in his face. He leaned back awkwardly at that, but still accepted it from her.

Not quite knowing how to react, but feeling like something was expected of him all the same, Siegfried decided to simply reciprocate the gesture. Trying to remember what color went with orange, he opted for a flower with sky blue petals. Picking it up, he carefully placed it in Berserker's orange hair while avoiding the odd metallic protrusions.

It was clearly the right thing to do, based upon a happy nod from Berserker, although Siegfried didn't quite know why.

"Um, excuse me," a voice spoke up, interrupting the atmosphere-a bit to Siegfried's relief. They looked over to see Berserker's master, Caules. He seemed very awkward, as if he really didn't want to be in his current position. Rubbing his neck while doing his best to not look at them, he continued, "We had planned to test Berserker's abilities at this time. Is that alright with you, Saber?"

For all that it was annoying at times, Siegfried had to acknowledge his inability to speak was helpful at times when he simply had little idea of how to respond when he was caught off-guard or confused. Why was he asking Siegfried? That he was intimidated by Siegfried was obvious, but for a Master to be asking permission of a Servant-and not even his own-was just plain odd.

Playing it safe by nodding, Siegfried quickly rearranged his picked flowers alongside those by Berserker. He then stood and retreated back to the tree he had originally been leaning against, and where his book had been left. Maybe he could get back to his reading.

"Um, sorry, but Berserker doesn't quite like giving out information. She was quite annoyed when I spoke her True Name," Caules said, actually speaking more steadily now than before. Siegfried didn't even have time to act before Berserker shook her head while grunting in her vaguely communicative way. Caules scratched his head before stuttering, "O-Oh. Okay. I guess it's…o-okay?"

Once again choosing to not dwell on the odd scene, Siegfried just took it as it was and started reading. Although by instinct he kept the duo in his peripheral vision and kept an ear open. While his allies and feeling little threat from Berserker even if they had to fight later in the war, it wasn't in his nature to not take note of what he observed around him.

Firstly the Master-Servant pair tested out Berserker's Noble Phantasm, although in but a limited form. _Blasted Tree: The Lightning Tree of Crucifixion_ was actually a sacrificial Noble Phantasm, releasing more power than Berserker could handle when all its limiters were released. It could be used without releasing said limiters, but it would degrade the power to that of a D~C rank Noble Phantasm. When tested against some of the more expendable of Caster's golems, it successfully destroyed those closer while growing weaker until it failed against those further.

While not an unimpressive level of power, it wasn't noteworthy either. Siegfried felt he had little reason to be worried, if both he and Berserker survived till the Black faction had to fight amongst itself for the wish. _Armor of Fafnir_ would block even her full-powered, B ranked Noble Phantasm…Although he was hesitant to conclude _Armor of Fafnir_ would work.

While the Holy Grail tapped into the data of the Throne of Heroes, which possessed perfect data of the Heroic Spirits residing there, to recreate them in the shell of a _Servant_ , there was no overcoming the gulf that existed between said Heroic Spirits and Servants. Not only were Heroic Spirits…restructured in order to fit into the overall 'class' system, but discrepancies naturally came up concerning what the Holy Grail can bring forth and what it brought forth for the Servant form. In essence, _Armor of Fafnir_ as a Noble Phantasm was a compromise of accuracy and efficiency developed by the Holy Grail based upon the legends of Siegfried's invulnerability with the data of the Throne as a guideline. It wasn't as if Siegfried's flesh had been literally recreated in it had been when he lived. The Holy Grail couldn't do that, at least not without it being the wish granted at the end. This applied to all Servants, although was primarily a factor for those Heroic Spirits who functioned during the Age of the Gods or Age of Magic.

This meant that Siegfried wasn't quite sure of the _Armor of Fafnir's_ effectiveness against a Noble Phantasm that incorporated a force like lightning. Still, he was confident. Degraded or not, Siegfried's draconic traits existed in some form even as a Servant. His body was tough enough that even a B-ranked Noble Phantasm wouldn't spell his end.

The next part of their training caught his attention more, considering his current situation with a homunculus. Berserker's _Bridal Chest: A Maiden's Chastity_ , her mace that was a catalyst for her Noble Phantasm, gave her the skill of _Galvanism_. The ability to absorb electricity and dispersed magical energy from the environment to partially sustain herself. It was advantageous in allowing her to function near continuously in an environment with plentiful magical energy, like a battlefield between Servants. This also made it very suitable for a Servant of a third class magi like Caules, who wouldn't be able to support a Berserker otherwise.

Clearly testing their minimal capabilities, Caules ordered Berserker to deactivate her _Galvanism_ skill, and also cut off the prana supply she received from the homunculus. Within but a few moves Berserker was clearly beset by dizziness, and Caules himself started showing sweat on his forehead from the strain. They clearly couldn't hope to keep it up for more than several minutes in a combat situation. It was a dismal result, one which only sent Siegfried's thoughts further away from his book.

Servants were only able to remain in the world with a Master to act as an anchor to the world, and a supply of prana. The latter typically came from said Master, but Yggdmillennia bypassed this through using homunculi as prana batteries. For Servants who don't only need to keep their form but also expend massive amounts of energy in battle, prana was a natural concern. While Siegfried's own bout with the enemy Lancer had been long and intense, it had been relatively basic in regards to energy consumption. In a more active match with Noble Phantasms being unleashed, Servants on their level could drain even a first class magus of prana in minutes. Such short bouts-for Heroic Spirits who could conceivably fight for days otherwise-meant it wasn't at all outrageous to say that the one with the greatest amount of prana would prove victorious.

Which was why Yggdmillennia's strategy to subsidize their faction's Servants with prana from a third party was such a critical move, and just why the situation with the escaped homunculus was so complex. Beyond Caster's current interest in the escaped homunculus, this related to their current 'king', Lancer. Vlad III. Disrupting or threatening the supply of prana from the homunculi would be viewed as nothing less than sabotage against the war effort. Treason…and the man's reputation spoke for itself in how this was no small thing in regards to possible retribution. This could cause a civil war in their faction that the enemy could take advantage of.

Possibly more worrying was what this homunculi's desire to escape meant. It was easy to overlook the homunculi as a whole. No presence, no ambition, no clear sense of 'self'. They were practically animated dolls, golems of flesh and blood…At least to Siegfried, who had no experience with homunculi in life. If however that wasn't the case…If there was some sense of self-preservation in at least some of them.

…

That was a line of thought he'd need time to work his way through. For now, Siegfried would keep it easy and simply. Rider had already involved both Siegfried and Archer in rescuing this homunculus, and as Heroic Spirits they had values that eclipsed their desire to triumph as Servants in this war. The question of the other homunculus would need to be answered another time.

As if just thinking of him summoned him, Rider hooted as he all but skipped over while waving and declaring, "Yoo-hoo, Saber. Oooh, Berserker and her Master too."

Well, any hope of being able to read was gone now. Not that he had gotten much done before, between Berserker, the training, and his own thoughts. It appeared that reading was not a good activity to escape ones thoughts.

So Siegfried calmly marked the book and stood back up, as Rider tried and failed to converse with Berserker in some meaningful fashion. However where Siegfried's silence meshed well with Rider's loquacity, Berserker only appeared irritated by the crossdresser's general glibness. Not that it stopped Rider from trying just about every time he came to fetch Siegfried. Knowing that it would end with Berserker growling Rider away and Rider throwing several comments to Caules, Siegfried just started walking back to the building-knowing Rider would be right behind him.

He was right. Rider soon was slapping him on the back, as he declared boisterously, "You'll need to tell me how you talk to Fran sometime…Well figuratively, since you can't talk to her…or me, now that I think about it. Man, what a drag."

Siegfried didn't visibly react to the ill phrased comments-for obvious reasons.

As the two walked through the castle, heading for Archer's room, Rider did what he did best and filled the silence, "Should probably warn you, Saber. My Master is still licking me and stuff, after once again failing to cut me with a knife, but when I was leaving she was asking if I was going to see you. She strikes me as the jealous type, and the fact that she's always covered in the smell of blood and gore might be indicative of just how she'll react."

Siegfried wasn't bothered by the idea. He felt little threat from the Dark Arts practitioner. Any Servant would outclass a modern magus, and he himself even more so. The only reason their Masters, at least for Siegfried and Rider, had influence over them was from the Command Seals. So while he had to acknowledge his own Master as possessing of influence over him and posing a threat, Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia did not.

The two very quickly found themselves in Archer's room, where the homunculus had been stashed for the time being. Rider entered with his usual energy, shouting, "Yoohoo. Did somebody ask for some heroes to save them?"

Seeing the homunculus jump, Siegfried just calmly walked to lean against a wall. Especially when it quickly became clear that the homunculus was far more scared and uncomfortable around him than Rider. Together with his current enforced silence, he just listened as Rider talked-the homunculus talking back hesitantly in a voice closer to a whisper.

"Well, first of all, we need to get you out of this wretched hive of scum and villainy as quickly as possible," Rider declared, actually surprising Siegfried with what his words implied about the intensity of his dislike that he must harbor underneath his positive attitude.

"Escape? Escape to where?"

"Anywhere but here. It can't be any worse, right? As long as you're here, all it takes is one of Caster's golems to notice you or one of the other homunculi to actually talk."

"…You're right, but how would we escape?"

"No point in wasting time. We can just ride out of here on my beloved steed. It's speed is unparalleled by the others here. Plus, if we don't hurry my Master will call for me again."

"Your steed? Yes, that could work…but the steed of Astolfo is…"

"Oh, you know of my hippogriff?"

"I do, as part of my programmed knowledge of the Holy Grail War. An impossible phantasmal beast, the cross between a griffin and a mare…The problem is it is surely your Noble Phantasm. By using it, you shall surely consume a vast amount of prana. It will be the other homunculi who will bear that burden, and surely utilizing it would draw attention due to the use of a Noble Phantasm."

That caught Siegfried's attention. It appeared the homunculus, despite his weak sense of self, was still able to think logically. In a way that seem contradictory with his relatively newfound creation-in just what state were the homunculi formed? The other's concern over burdening the other homunculi also once again raised the question on whether Siegfried himself should view them as an acceptable source of prana or not.

"But it's very fast, you know. It's like, _whoosh_! We'll go as far as we can, and then I can just come right back, _whoosh_! I don't think that will take too much prana," Rider said, gesturing exaggeratedly to try and convey the speed of his most famous Noble Phantasm.

It came to nothing though, as it appeared the homunculus was still against the idea.

"Ah, fine! Okay, we won't do that. What shall we do then? Maybe we should ask Chiron?" Rider said, only to freeze in panic at the slipup. "Uh-oh. Forget I said that. I never said Archer's True Name, okay…Please don't tell him."

"That should not be an issue," Archer chimed in from where he was just entering. "Please do not use my real name again, Rider."

"Alright, I get it. I already felt bad about it." Not anymore though. The brief fear Rider had shown before at his mistake being found out had quickly transformed into amusement. Seems but momentary regret for such things was beyond the knight of Charlemagne. Quickly changing the topic, Rider perked up as he continued, "How about this? This war between Servants will begin soon. In such clashes between Servants, it would be hard for most to notice a single escaped homunculus. And even if we are noticed, it would be hard for them to gather the resources to come after us. So all we need to do is wait till when most of the Masters and Servants on our side are occupied, and then I can use the opportunity to lead you out of this place."

It was actually a decent plan, although Siegfried himself would have chosen to be more patient. The other homunculi appeared at least passively supporting of this one, based on how Rider had told them a number of ignored him outright as he carried him away, and few others would be able to chance upon him in Archer's room. He could have been safe for a time. As it was, Siegfried wasn't too sure of his ability to survive alone. He seemed to have some knowledge and logical capabilities, but he currently couldn't walk nor use magecraft safely. They could keep him safe until Caster lost interest or Siegfried, Rider, and Archer were in a position to bargain with Lancer and Darnic for his life.

Yet another downside of being rendered mute.

"That should do," Archer spoke up, evidently agreeing with Rider's plan. He then sat at his desk before addressing the homunculus, "You are afraid."

"Of course he is. Who wouldn't be afraid of people like us?" Rider interjected, seemingly ignoring or ignorant of the homunculi's lack of fear towards him specifically.

"Regardless, I shall put more fear into you here and now. I shall be blunt…at most, you have only three more years to live," Archer indifferently explained the cruel truth to the homunculus, who seemed if not unsurprised at least understanding of what he was being told. "If you were but a child, I would lament and give my sympathy. However, you are a homunculus-in a way, you were born _complete_. That is why you must now consider for yourself."

"Consider what?"

With piercing eyes, Archer told him, "Consider _how_ you will live."

"But…life is already a miracle. How could I possibly decide on how to _spend_ it?"

Clearly not unused to being asked such existential questions, Archer simply replied sternly, "Even so, you must consider it. If you do not consider _how to live_ , then how would your life be any different-or end any differently-even if you were to survive this war? If you don't take something from this besides an extension on a life unlived, then what meaning is there to anything we are doing here?"

"Well, _I_ think being alive is already a blessing," Rider grumbled, clearly not pleased with how Archer was behaving.

"That will not do," Archer swiftly brushed off such feelings. Although he sent a reassuring smile at the now lost homunculus as he continued, "Luckily, you can ask others, and Rider is here for you. Always seek the wisdom of others, even if some things can only be discovered yourself."

"Wait, why does this involve me all of a sudden?"

"That is what it means to take responsibility, Rider. Oh, yes, and one more thing-start learning to walk. You are _complete,_ so it should not be a difficult process, but your feet are too soft. Taking steps, figuratively and literally, should lessen the strain on your untested physical being. Afterwards, you should be able to use some simple thaumaturgy," that directive seemed to provide whatever extra hope or direction the homunculus needed, based on his eyes. Nodding, Archer stood and patted Rider's shoulder while looking at Siegfried as he continued, "Let us go, Rider, Saber. I shall lock the door. No one will disturb him here during the meeting."

"All right," Rider grumbled, clearly dissatisfied and annoyed with how things had developed. Still, Rider shook the homunculus' hand as he told him, "See you later, then. I'll be back soon."

The three then left the homunculus behind, who already seemed to embark on fulfilling the goal Archer had provided him by getting out of bed and taking a few hesitant steps.

* * *

"Aren't you being too hard on him?" Rider almost immediately demanded as they walked down the hall towards where the Servants had been called to gather.

"And you are being too soft. I only wish to strike a balance," Archer easily retorted, no doubt too used to being questioned on his teaching methods by young students to be ruffled by Rider's argument.

That didn't stop Rider though. "Aren't you being too soft on your Master, too?"

"Ah, is that why your mood turned sour? Rider…the most fitting way to educate is dependent on and different for each person. My Master works hard to remove the handicap she was born with, as though it was a matter of life and death. But, as a magus, she has come to _accept_ it as a sacrifice she bears for the good of her clan and bloodline. She will surely fall apart one day from that disconnect between her desires as a person and her responsibilities as a magus, if there is not someone there to support her unconditionally and praise her efforts," Archer explained knowingly. "That homunculus though, does not understand the difference between sloth and effort to begin with. He may be born complete, but that very dichotomy of being ' _born complete_ ' means choosing how to live and making progress towards that ephemeral desire is alien to him. He must be taught now, by us who have taken responsibility. Considering his short lifespan, he cannot be allowed to be lazy. That would only be a waste of the life he chose and the blessing we've given him by attempting to save that life."

"Ah, fine! I get it. You sound like a teacher."

"Oh, but I am," Archer admitted softly, patting Rider's head-who brushed it aside while sulking.

"What about you, Saber? What do you think?"

Clearly Rider didn't expect an answer to his question, and Siegfried was once again glad for his forced silence. In truth, Siegfried was discomfited by much of the recent conversation…And he didn't much like the implications on just how much remarks to draw a reaction from a homunculus affected himself.

* * *

Siegfried's wish was not something the Grail could grant him, or at least even if it could it would be meaningless to him. It was the Holy Grail War itself that was what offered him the chance to fulfill his desire. The chance to live once again. To fight in the name of something.

Siegfried had lived the latter part of his life as something not human. He had given up his humanity that day with Fafnir, when he allowed the dying dragon to goad and convince him to devour its heart even after accidentally bathing in its blood as they battled. The heart was the biological equivalent of a magical core. The magical core of a dragon, those great phantasmal beasts which generated prana just by breathing, was a catalyst that could bring forth a miracle even without a ritual. That act of devouring Fafnir's heart had been symbolic enough. The dragon blood running through his veins had given him great power…power beyond that of a human.

And that power weighed down upon him. Crushed him. Crippled him. A human could be selfish, greedy, passionate, but he was no longer human. He had to hold himself to a greater standard. He could not seek salvation for himself. This power needed to be wielded for others, without bias or judgement.

A Prince of the Netherlands. Noble and brave, whose majestic appearance was praised and his glory extoled. All men wished to become his subordinates, and all women pushed their earnest affections on him. That was the way it had always been for him, yet something changed after that point. He had always lived up to the expectations people unreasonably placed upon him, but after that point he _had_ to live up to the expectations people placed on him. Even the most unreasonable. When someone made a request of him, he fulfilled it. When someone kneeled before him and begged his aid, he grabbed their hand and lifted them to their feet. Soon what had once been pleas to slay an evil dragon and save the people became wishes to aid in gaining the hand of a peerless beauty none could satisfy.

And he still answered, as a hero. He had no place to refuse. Good and evil were merely matters of where you stood, and a man neither human nor dragon had no place making judgements. He was just a hero, answering the pleas of the people- _too much so_.

Soon he was but a [System]. A living, breathing [Holy Grail] whose sole purpose was to fulfill the wishes of the people while bearing the name 'hero'.

He did not act according to his will. He did not fight because he liked it. As he was doing so, he soon realized it. He did not know anymore what he himself wished for at all. He had no wishes or dreams. He had no future he sought himself. Even though the people called him an ideal hero, he had himself lost his own ideals.

How pathetic.

Even so, it was fine. He could not seek his own salvation, and being thanked by someone was not a bad feeling. It was only natural that his heart would be moved when people requested his help with desperate expressions.

Even if there was a hole in his heart.

And so he continued down that path. Victory after victory followed. He knew only victory. He was never beaten. Such a thing was impossible. As long as others requested victory of him, he would grasp it no matter the despair and suffering he endured.

He believed there had to be something at the end of his path. There had to be something at the end of this way of life. So he could only continue the fight, continue walking that path.

But there wasn't.

Even if he loved fulfilling the wishes of the people.

Even if he loved humans.

Even if he loved the world.

At the end of the path was but another wish he hoped to fulfill, even if this time said wish demanded his own death. So, as was the path he had walked too long to step off of anymore, he accepted the javelin plunging into his back with not a hint of regret. He regretted not the path he walked. He regretted not his death.

He regretted only his own failings. His own weakness. His own inability to even try to fill the hole in his heart.

So he sought not to amend his past. He did not seek to change his death. To change the story of revenge his life and death brought about.

All he sought…was the chance to for once have his own wish granted. No matter how greedy or abhorrent….No matter how much he didn't deserve his own salvation…He wished to know the feeling of having genuine pride in one's self. In the choices he made. The causes he wielded his blade for. Risked his life for. He wanted to help someone not because he was asked to nor because it was expected of him as a hero, but of his own free will. Even if his help was unasked for, even if it was unwarranted…He wanted to fight for his own ideals…His own justice.

If he could do that, he had to believe the hole in his heart would be filled.

* * *

Yet, he still knew not how he would achieve that wish with his own hands. All he'd done so far with this chance was being drawn into a plan to help an escaped homunculus because he'd been asked. The homunculus might only have three years of life, but Siegfried's chance here was even briefer. The war could last but days, a week or two at most. And just like the homunculus, a failure by Siegfried to act now would only lead to regrets later.

Had he already fallen on the path he had specifically sought to avoid this time, fulfilling the wishes of others automatically? Helping the homunculus was not wrong, but it was a task he undertook entirely because it had been asked of him and it was expected of him as a hero. It would not fulfill the hole in his heart. What was this but a continuation of the path he walked in life? And if so, how was he planning to achieve his wish?

Did he even really know what it was he wanted? He still knew not his own ideals, his own justice. As long as he knew himself not, he could never understand where he wished to be. What he wished to fight for.

These brooding thoughts engulfed Siegfried's mind as he merely followed Rider and Archer into the throne room, the three being the last of the Servants and Masters to arrive. Lancer didn't berate or question them though, instead immediately signaling to Caster. Caster once again used a nearby menorah to display a picture from one of his reconnaissance golems with remote viewing thaumaturgy.

That picture showed a figure quickly moving through the forest.

* * *

"Will you just stop, Berserker? You're being a fool."

"You say that like it is a bad thing," a rough voice replied back.

The woman could only give an annoyed but resigned sigh, even as she kept up with the moving figure. While doing so she made sure to move with the utmost stealth possible as she jumped from branch to branch, her verdant green clothing and beastly affinity for forests aiding her in this. A soft chuckle caught her attention despite the large figure creating a massive ruckus as he moved.

"Rider, are you going to reveal yourself a battle loving brute as well?" she quickly snapped at the predatory man that was effortlessly keeping up with the previous duo.

"Battle loving, sure. A brute…probably," Rider replied right back with a wry smile, "But I did come here to make sure both you and Berserker were all right. Doesn't that earn me any brownie points, Nee-chan?"

Archer was clearly unimpressed, and her opinion was echoed by Berserker who pointed out, "Stop dressing it up, Rider. You would have been here, no matter what. You want to fight as well, right?"

Archer was the one to retort first, growling out, "Fighting doesn't mean this, you gull! We are merely waiting till the time is ripe. Like a hunt!"

"Please, I don't want a hunt. I want a fight," Berserker replied back as if that was all that mattered, "Waiting isn't my style either. You can phrase this as a mere scouting mission, if it suits your propriety on warfare. The three of us won't die, so we're gathering information through a skirmish…Well, we might die, but that's even better. Better to die facing a foe of quality than triumph over one without, right?"

"I prefer triumphing over foes of quality, myself. Losing is not my style," Rider riposted with a smirk.

"Well fuck you too, Mr. Invincible. Some of us prefer to actually face people on equal grounds. Victory is never half so sweet when you clasp it even as Hel calls for you," Berserker declared, his grin never leaving his face.

"That's the difference though. Some of us have a bit more difficulty finding our equals than others."

Archer only sighed as Rider and Berserker snapped at each other back and forth. In truth, the two had quite a good compatibility. If in a really troubling way. The two had immediately gotten into a fight when they first met. Eventually they came to an understanding as some men do when they've stopped comparing their phallus' sizes. The two would fight together, and actually work well together. However once the Black Faction was defeated, as soon as the two saw each other again it was certain that the two would immediately engage in a death match. It was not hatred, but sheer battle lust at play. Once the two caught sight of each other when no limitations were in play, they wouldn't be able to hold back till one had emerged victorious in their battle.

In regards to Madness Enhancement, Berserker was a failure. He received no enhancements, besides possibly gaining a bit more ferocity. It was because it could be argued that he was by nature a Berserker already, if a different type of one than the standard. He had his mind still, and it was indeed possible to reason and strategize with him. The problem was that he was the type of stubborn, battle hungry warrior Archer disliked. He was better than some of the brutes she had known, but that wasn't saying much. Just as bad was that he tended to draw out the same aspects from Rider.

Rider eventually removed himself from the insulting contest long enough to inform Archer, "Well, it seems the priest has given in. We've been given orders to support Berserker, and gather as much information as possible."

"Understood. Where is your mount, Rider?"

"Well, we're here to gather information, not to give the enemy any. So I'll keep them out of it. My spear will be enough."

"It better be. We'll no doubt be checked before we reach the castle. I've been keeping out of sight of the familiars in the air, so the enemy will only know about you two. They'll likely ensure they have a numerical superiority, since we're the ones invading their territory," Archer said as she looked through the small gaps in the treetops to where several birds made of stone had been following them for a while.

"Good, that's part of why attacking is so much better than defending," Berserker grunted excitedly, apparently having been keeping up with their conversation.

"Haha, seems even you say some good things every once in a while, Berserker," Rider taunted before continuing, "I'll bet I can handle more of the enemy at once than you."

"You're on."

Archer once again sighed. Why was she the one that had to be with the two battle maniacs feeding off each other?

* * *

"Soldiers of Yggdmillennia-according to Caster, the enemy has started moving," Darnic began. "We unfortunately only have theories at this point. We suspected this to be an attack by the enemy Berserker, since at first he was alone, but he actually rode part of the way to Trifas by sitting on a bus. Unlikely to be the act of one suffering under Madness Enhancement. He has also been joined by another, so it appears he has support. Thus, this is likely to be a more forceful test of our defenses than their Saber's previous attempts inside the city."

"Can we still assume the previous Servant witnessed is indeed the enemy Saber?" Lancer broke in imperiously, looking at the image being shown to them intensely. "This Servant too wields swords. The last one was wild and fierce. She might have been a Berserker with a low Madness Enhancement rating that happened to wield a sword."

"A possibility, but mere minutiae for the moment. The enemy is moving on us," Darnic pointed out. Looking at the seated Lancer, he asked, "What shall we do, my King?"

Lancer swept his eyes calculatingly across the gathered Servants before making a decision and opening his mouth.

* * *

Siegfried wasn't surprised he was chosen to be sent out. It was only natural, from a strategic point of view. While Vlad III might receive a massive fame boost in Romania and was the 'king' of their faction, Siegfried was still a Servant that could still be considered his equal in combat. As a figure that could be considered a moving fortress, due to his invulnerability, he was arguably the keystone for the entire war strategy of the Black Faction. Taking into account both ability and attitude, one could claim the only proper place for Siegfried was at the frontlines to protect his comrades. A solid and invulnerable pillar around which his comrades could maneuver and organize. His invulnerability allowed him to tackle unknown opponents with but a fraction of the risk.

In this case, Lancer had chosen for his support Rider and Berserker. Not an unexpected choice either. Caster was obviously out, and Lancer was their heavy-hitting trump card to be deployed in the decisive battle. Archer was better served performing elsewhere rather than on the ground here, and Assassin had still not arrived.

They had chosen not to utilize any golems or homunculi. It would be mere wasting resources from what appeared to be a genuine assault by multiple enemy Servants.

It only took a minute of travel once outside the castle for them to intercept the enemy. The three of them chose to land in the middle of a decent clearing to await them, and their enemy quickly acquiesced. One landed on the branch of a tree right at the clearing edge. He was possessing of green hair alongside a strong and firm build, but from his height advantage Siegfried could only feel as if the man was possessing of a predatory air to him-looking down upon his prey.

The other was on the ground. A muscular figure without a shirt, and positively riddled with scars across his face and chest. He was wielding two rather crude looking, as well as massive, swords in his hands-hands that also had a chain extending from bracelets on each wrist. Short blonde hair along with a patch of facial hair on his chin surrounded a strong face.

"Just three?! You underestimate us, Servants of Black. Hey, Berserker. I think I'll just be taking all three," the one in the trees announced. Then without waiting for the response from-who appeared to be based on his words-Berserker, he continued with absurd confidence, "Servants of Black! I'm the Rider of Red. Don't worry, I didn't lose my steed before the war even started. It's just a waste to bring it out against anything less than all seven of you at once."

Okay, that taunt definitely found fertile ground. They were all Heroic Spirits. They all had their pride. Berserker's grunts became harsher, and even Rider gave a pout and a glare. Siegfried raised an eyebrow, at least Lancer had been coldly indifferent in his confidence, but Rider almost seemed to relish in the pressure they put forth.

Hateful animosity and killing intent-the man was far too used to both being directed at him. It was almost reassuring. The weapons and times might change, but some parts of combat never did. He would cut down all before him, and all the animosity in the world was but a light breeze compared to the feeling of possessing one true friend and the affection of the women who loved him. That was the way Rider had striven to live his life.

"Come…I'll show you what a true warrior is."

That was all that was needed…for the enemy Berserker to act. As Fran growled and moved to jump at the enemy Rider, the enemy Berserker was already streaking forward. An attempt by Fran to slam her mace into him was rebutted when Berserker matched her blow with the _hilt_ of one of his swords, and a leg rose up to forward kick her right in the chest. Such was the force she went flying back, smashing a tree into splinters with her body as the projectile.

Balmung screamed as it cut the air. One of Berserker's swords rose to block it, but Siegfried's strikes could not be so easily blocked as Fran's. He knocked it away, and a swift parry redirected the other one so that Berserker's arms and swords were both connected and knocked upwards. Stepping into Berserker's guard, Siegfried then took another step to the side and beyond Berserker while a wide arc of Balmung moved to actually bifurcate Berserker at the midsection.

Of course, it would not be so easy. Not even trying to use his swords more against Siegfried's superior swordsmanship, he juked closer to Siegfried to shoulder check him. The collision pushed Siegfried slightly to the side while compromising his balance and the arc of Balmung, and Berserker used the reciprocal force to push himself away and outside of the swing. He didn't succeed totally, Balmung's tip cutting through his right side on the ribs, but he was almost completely unbothered as right afterwards with swords still in hand he smashed his closed hands on either side of Astolfo's lance to halt the thrust right before it pierced him.

Siegfried's move to turn and use the opportunity where Berserker was immobilized holding Astolfo's lance in place from that disadvantageous stance was immediately scuttled to block the absolutely furious assault from the enemy Rider. This allowed Berserker the opportunity to spin and slam his elbow into the side of Astolfo's lance to knock it aside. Then following through with the spin and using his right thumb to keep ahold of his sword, his right hand grabbed the nape of Astolfo's outfit. Then, drawing an indignant squawk from Astolfo, he positively picked the smaller Servant up and tossed him in the same direction as he had kicked Berserker earlier.

The entire series of events took but two seconds, Siegfried now being left with the enemy Rider while Astolfo and Fran found themselves faced with the enemy Berserker.

"Dammit, Berserker. That's cheating," Rider yelled angrily.

"Maybe next time you should speak less with your mouth and more with your fists if you want to win," Berserker called back.

Those words were the sole break between that opener and the following battles.

Rider was on Siegfried too swiftly to even consider going to the aid of his companions. Defending against Rider's assault was difficult enough already. Wielding a spear with enough skill to no doubt qualify as a Lancer, Siegfried used all his skill to defend before finally finding an opportunity. Forgoing defense, he played along in falling for one of the enemies' feints. Then once the enemy fell to it, Siegfried shot forward. The enemies' thrust stopped cold went it contacted with his skin, and Balmung's edge ran right across Rider's chest as Siegfried passed him by.

And did nothing.

Just Siegfried's luck, literally. Sending Servants with defensive capabilities was only natural in the opening stages, so he hadn't been bothered when he met Lancer. However to find himself opposite an enemy with two Servants with defensive abilities in the same vein as _Armor of Fafnir_ , and to happen to face them in the first two skirmishes was just unlikely to the point of beggaring belief.

The enemy Rider was not as perturbed, no doubt already knowing of Siegfried's defensive ability-Siegfried had thought Rider fell for that exchange too easily. He felt himself being put on the back foot and pushed back under Rider's offensive that hadn't stopped from the exchange. Swipes and thrusts of the enemy spear were interspersed with clever feints, all backed up by speed that was not inferior to Lancer. No…Siegfried had to admit that Rider was even faster than his previous foe, as incredible a thought as it was to Siegfried who had never faced enemies of this speed in life. Even Rider's strength was incredible. In general, Rider's physical parameters had to overall edge out over both Siegfried and Lancer.

Thankfully Rider didn't have Lancer's inhuman elegance, nor the transcendent skill. Rider was not at all lacking in regards to skill, but it was clear he was a warrior who overwhelmed his foes through his physical prowess and almost reckless aggression if it wasn't for whatever defensive capabilities he possessed.

The major difference might be simple weaponry, though. Lancer's lance had been magnificent, great in length and the weight of its head that together with his skill allowed him to strike at range with power at complete odds with his base strength. Rider's spear was shorter. A simple spear of sturdy workmanship, designed for close combat. To overwhelm a foe up close, not destroy anyone that entered its vicinity like Lancer's. Rider's strength couldn't close the gap this difference created, and even when it connected it failed to pierce Siegfried's skin to inflict even the minor wounds Lancer had.

Deciding to use this crucial difference, Siegfried once again stopped defending. Meeting Rider blow for blow, he fought his enemy's speed with sheer skill. And then when it suited him, he allowed half a dozen blows from Rider to land. Leaning forward into the thrusts to force Rider to back up half a step to keep the proper distance for his attack to work, Siegfried used the infinitesimal opportunity when one of Rider's feet was off the ground to unleash his cocked blow. This time he did not aim for a clean slice by running Balmung's edge along the opponent's flesh like before, this time the Greatsword connected with force enough that experience had proved even the armor of a great dragon could not defend against it.

Yet once again, to no effect.

At least it provided another piece of Rider's defense to Siegfried. There was no absolute defense. Those who carried the trait of 'invulnerability' knew this more than anyone. Lancer's armor had functioned not by blocking damage, but by reducing it to but a small fraction. Siegfried's dragon armor merely raised the toughness of his body to the point it took an incredible amount of force to cut or injure him, and there was also the weak point on his back. Rider's had to have weaknesses or limitations as well. Siegfried's first attempt did nothing, removing the possibility it solely minimized damage taken like Lancer's. That second blow had enough force to break or damage any physical defense, for there was no more physically powerful defense than the scales of a dragon. That it had no effect meant it was a purely magic based defense.

Taking note of that as soon as the blow failed to draw blood, Siegfried followed it up. The blow might not have harmed Rider, but the force behind it had pushed him physically backwards. Reversing the roles by now forcing Rider on the defensive, Siegfried attacked in a similar reckless manner as Rider had been just before.

Unsurprisingly, it was easy for those Servants with such defensive abilities to disregard defense in favor of offense.

Under pressure, Rider all but flickered as that absurd speed allowed his to distance himself only to come in at a new angle. Rather than allowing his enemy to regain the initiative, Siegfried drew the slightest bit of the Ether contained within the jewel of Balmung. Said jewel glowed orange, and Balmung was engulfed in a light layer of twilight aura. Siegfried then dug the sword into the ground, using the strike to launch a cloud of dust and debris at his approaching opponent. With the gathered ether to allow the mundane materials to affect Servants.

No effect.

Rider burst right through the dust and debris, eyes unbothered and with the small rocks and splinters unsurprisingly also without effect. Rider spear was thrust forward, and Siegfried's move had left him vulnerable. Allowing the spear to scrape against his skin before going underneath his arm, he attempted to trap it between his arm and side. Rider was too fast though, withdrawing it. Siegfried evaded the next strike at his face and neck by dropping into a crouch, and despite the awkward position made a horizontal sweep with Balmung to try and take out the legs of his opponent. Rider jumped, and though Siegfried attempted to take advantage of his airborne position was preempted when Rider's leg shot out to connect a kick to Siegfried's face hard enough to actually bend him backwards. Choosing to flow with the strike than fight it, Siegfried used to force to go into a backflip. A hand removed from Balmung placed itself on the ground to hold him up in the impromptu maneuver, and he was then back on his feet in a ready stance.

So Rider's defense protected from a wider array of potential hindrances as well? Siegfried had been hoping it might have been more a case of 'he cannot be harmed by swords'. That even the dust had failed to irritate his eyes showed this wasn't the case. That was unfortunate.

' _What are you doing, Saber? There's not a scratch on him! Use your Noble Phantasm! Use it!'_

Those orders from his Master were even more unfortunate. There were a wide array of other potential 'conditions' a passive defensive Noble Phantasm might operate under. It could be 'he cannot be harmed at night' or 'he cannot be harmed in a forest'. Obviously Siegfried was not in a situation where he could check those potential conditions, but for now he had to test whatever he could. It's possible hand to hand might work, or Rider could possess a weakness similar to Siegfried's spot on his back. It would be difficult and irritating, but it was a necessary process. If however he used his Noble Phantasm and it didn't work, he would be but a fool whose use of his Noble Phantasm accomplished nothing but advertising his own True Name. Then all would know Siegfried's weak-point: his back.

Thus that was obviously a command he would allow to go unheeded. Hopefully Gordes would leave it at that. Normally Siegfried would explain as such, but that was obviously not an option at this point.

"This isn't going anywhere, huh?" Rider spoke up, not taking the opportunity to renew the battle. Siegfried could understand why. At this rate, their entire battle would consist of attempts to try and find out how to actually wound the other. At least the duel with Lancer had some sense of result, as they could wound each other-no matter how minor. Rider was irritated by Saber's silence though, and he soon jeered provocatively, "You're a surly bastard, aren't you? Men who don't laugh on the field of battle, may forget how to by the time they reach Elysium. This world is enough of a gloomy, festering pus as it is-you should at least try to get a laugh in."

Siegfried obviously didn't agree. At some point, laughter in the face of an opponent is mere condescension. Mutual optimism by two opponents that have an understanding is entirely different from mocking the corpses of the fallen…Although Siegfried's end might show some truth on the statement. Still, for Siegfried who loved the world there were far more joyful and fulfilling aspects of the world than the battlefield.

Despite his continued silence as the only response, Rider only chuckled before adding, "… _before you die_. You know?"

At that signal, an unseen arrow shot from the trees at a speed faster than sound to impact directly against Siegfried's chest. The force of it was so great as to send him flying backwards head over heel. He shot through several trees before coming to a rest.

His mind was racing. The idea of there being another, hidden Servant of the enemy had been something they had considered. That was an attack of pure physical force, not thaumaturgy, which together with the arrow naturally meant the enemy Archer.

Incredible. Siegfried always kept some degree of attention to his surroundings. That Archer was not nearby, and they were currently in a thick forest at night. They also must have noted that nothing but a great force could have pierced his dragon armor. They had to have drawn their bow to the absolute limit. To do all that and still hit him from such a distance…that was no average Archer the enemy had.

The enemy now outnumbering wasn't an overwhelming issue though. Their team too was buying time. Siegfried stayed on the ground, hoping to feign a state of weakness to hopefully cause the arrogant Rider to give him time to recover.

Seems Rider was not so naïve though. He descended upon Siegfried like a bird of prey, his spear aiming for his eyes. Rather than wield Balmung, Siegfried tilted his head so the spear just scraped against his cheekbone. A leg than arose, kicking Rider in the chest. It failed to damage him, but it did succeed in lifting him up and away.

Siegfried used that moment to get up and move right past Rider, heading towards where the arrow had come from. He needed to get closer to the enemy Archer. Naturally, Rider's speed meant the head start was closed in an instant. For Servants though, an instant of movement was a great distance.

Siegfried twisted to clash weapons with Rider again, ensuring a blow didn't by happen connect with his back. He two then fought as they ran, Siegfried refusing to stop his attempt to reach the enemy Archer. Balmung swung with greater force, Siegfried using pure kinetic force to disrupt Rider's ability to sprint smoothly. The cost was Rider landing an uncountable number of blows, in the thick forest they were now traversing a thrusting weapon like his spear was superior to a swinging weapon like Balmung.

It mattered not though, not with the attacks accomplishing nothing. He needed to pinpoint the enemy Archer's general location, both to keep an eye on him and for his coming support. So Siegfried accepted the blades, devoting extra attention instead to every sense he had available to even the slightest sign of the enemy.

In the end it was less Siegfried's efforts that provided a breakthrough as the enemy Archer's opportunism. Another arrow shot out. Without the power to harm Siegfried, unlike the other one which had sunk in deep enough to pierce him half an inch or so, but that wasn't its goal. This arrow was to disrupt, and it did that by shooting the side of his ankle out right when he was making a step. Considering Siegfried and Rider were sprinting, this naturally meant he ungracefully took a tumble. He regained his feet quickly, but Rider was already all over the opportunity. A flying knee connected with Siegfried's chest, Rider's invulnerability meaning the blocking Balmung did nothing, and smashed him through a tree.

Siegfried regained his feet while being just short of breath, accepting of the sacrifice. He had the enemy Archer's direction, and that arrow had come from far closer than before. It was enough for him, and hopefully someone watching, to work with.

"You ran in the wrong direction, buddy. Next time you turn your back on me, it will be your last," Rider mockingly stated.

Siegfried prepared to once again get a better idea of Archer's position, but this time he was cut off not by Rider but by someone else.

* * *

Gordes was losing his patience. Saber not only ignored his orders, but seemed to be half running from the enemy Rider. From what he could see through his familiars, Rider of Red was possessing of incredible parameters and Saber had yet to even wound him. With the enemy Archer also participating now, defeating Rider was now of utmost importance.

It was only common sense that Masters should not presume to give precise instructions to their Servants in battle. They should naturally have absolute faith in their Servants in matters of combat, as Heroic Spirits have far greater battle experience intuition than a magus. A normal magus should focus on greater strategy alone.

Yet Gordes had abandoned all attempts at communication with his Servant soon after his summoning, when Siegfried had actually brought up this very point. He did not try to understand him. He merely sought to hide his True Name, viewing Siegfried the Dragon Slayer as an unbeatable tool as long as his True Name remained concealed. And as an unbeatable tool, it mattered not how it was wielded. Thus the concept of tactics never entered his mind.

It was this perception that gave rise to a frustration during the duel with Lancer and now with Rider. How could his unbeatable tool not win? The only answer he could come up with was that it was because Siegfried had yet to unveil his absolute strength-his Noble Phantasm.

Such a train of thought had borne no consequence in the duel with Lancer, where Gordes had personally been confronted with the power and authority of a battle of Servants. This time though, Gordes was in a room alone as he looked through Siegfried's eyes. Separated from physical harm, but with his honor and pride still at risk. Absurd thoughts piled on top of one another till…

"Saber, I order you by Command Seal to use your Noble Phantasm and defeat Rider of Red!"

* * *

" _Saber, I order you by Command Seal to use your Noble Phantasm and defeat Rider of Red!"_

Siegfried was naturally shocked. He had hoped Gordes' inaction during his duel with Lancer meant he would not be so reckless with the usage of Command Seals. It hadn't been a high hope, with what the first one had been used for, but it had been a hope regardless.

If nothing else though, Saber can't deny he considered this possibility. He had also already felt the power of a Command Seal, as it engraved itself upon his soul. Using his Noble Phantasm was stupid. Rider was effectively immortal until the peculiarities of his defense were figured out. Siegfried would not protest if he considered it a possibility his Noble Phantasm would work on Rider, but attempting to brute force it was the act of an imbecile.

Indeed, even as Balmung's jewel glowed and the Greatsword was embraced in twilight, Rider's smirk only widened and he all but opened his arms wide as he challenged, "Come on, Saber!"

With that attitude, there was no chance this would work. Siegfried would be giving up his True Name for nothing. His weak-point would be exposed.

Yet he knew the power of the Command Seals. If that was the case, better make the sacrifice worth something.

With that thought in mind, Siegfried made his resolve. Balmung burst with power, but now he didn't fight it. He just delayed it, and redirected it. Siegfried shot forward, surprising Rider who had left himself open expecting the Noble Phantasm. This arrogance allowed Siegfried to close and sweep his enemies' legs. Rider recovered quickly, too quickly for Siegfried who had to stand back up and finish Balmung's preparation. Rider used his hand to grip the ground, and with that distanced himself. He then landed on a knee and raised his arms in front of his head, instinct seemingly forcing a more protective stance than before.

He was not the target though. The move was not to change the attack on Rider, but properly line him up. For behind Rider…was where Siegfried knew the enemy Archer was among the trees.

" **Balmung: Phantasmal Greatsword-Felling of the Sky Dragon!"**

With that yell, Siegfried channeled all the gathered ether as well as the power of the Command Seal into the attack. The twilight aura explode forward in a flash of light. A semi-circle wave of destruction roaring forth, the power of an A+ Noble Phantasm enhanced by a Command Seal illuminating the world. Rider was engulfed, the forest obliterated, and everything before him consumed.

The brief twilight died down after a moment, leaving a world in chaos. Splinters from an entire forest rained from the sky, animals gave panicked howls, trees fell further in, etc.

Yet Rider was kneeling in the midst of this chaos, completely unharmed. Lifting his head from where he had covered his face with his arms, Rider looked predatory as he spoke up lightly despite the noise and movement going on all around, "Siegfried. So nice to know the name of the man I'm about to kill in a mome-."

The taunt was cut off though when Rider's spine arched. Veins bulged on his neck as he threw his head back with a silent scream of pain, his entire body tensed up. The cause was clear.

An arrow, sticking right out of his heel.

* * *

Chiron had been a natural choice for a secret support member of the team sent out. His ranged capabilities, eyesight, and the elevated positions of Millennia Castle meant everything was available for him to act in that capacity. The others would draw them in, ensure they were invested, allowing himself to swing the edge in their favor.

Until that point he had worked with Caster in sweeping the ground for any of the enemy Masters. While unsurprisingly for magus to want to avoid the frontlines, it was expected that at least a single enemy Master to accompany an assault group like this. Such as Kairi Sisigou's with the Saber of Red. Locating that Master could be crucial. Killing an enemy Master with a single arrow was far more likely than an enemy Servant, and could be just as debilitating a blow.

Yet there had been nothing. A waste of time that had allowed the enemy to deploy their own backup in the form of their own Archer. Vlad would reinforce Rider and Berserker against the enemy Berserker. Chiron had the harder task, for Saber was battling the enemy further out. Saber hadn't helped by driving for the enemy Archer, hindering any attempt to hit the enemy Rider. Especially as that had become so important.

Achilles. To think they would meet like this, as enemies. The gods still had a cruel sense of humor. Both to them, and against Saber who was facing an opponent he was incapable of beating. Only one with divinity can harm Achilles, with only his heel being a weak-point. To someone so naturally gifted by the gods, as much as he hated them, as Achilles, even the greatest non-divine Servant would be fighting against the odds.

Chiron hadn't even had the chance to telepathically inform Saber of Rider's identity before Saber had brought forth his Noble Phantasm, revealing his own identity as Siegfried the Dragon Slayer. He was only able to watch as a useless attack was launched at great cost.

Until he _saw_. Saber had not only been aiming to attack the enemy Archer with that attack, but also disorient her and force her to change position. A window of several seconds had been opened before Rider's support had returned. Balmung's great light had also acted as a beacon that Chiron couldn't have ignored even if he hadn't been waiting for the ideal moment to step in, and it had created an entire clearing in the dense forest. One that Rider was inside, with no trees to obstruct Chiron. As long as Saber could keep the enemies around that newly made clearing, Chiron's support had become guaranteed.

And even if Siegfried hadn't known it, other opportunities had been created. Achilles had gotten into a position by instinct to protect his heel from an area of effect attack, on a knee with his weak heel behind him…And Chiron happened to be at a right angle, with a view of his profile. Balmung had created a racket, and branches and splinters were falling from the air. Maybe most of all though, Achilles was at his high point of carelessness. His arrogance had always been a weakness, but one Chiron himself had kept in control enough that with his other abilities it mattered little. Yet here and now, having just endured the Noble Phantasm of such a famous and lauded hero as Siegfried without a scratch?! How could he not let his guard down, for just a moment?

So Chiron had drawn his bow, and taken the shot. The arrow was almost lazy in its speed. Yet it flew true regardless. Achilles was open. The way was clear. The enemy Archer was repositioning. There was noise enough to hide the arrow even from Achilles. The arrow threaded the needle, and pierced right where it was supposed to.

The mortal heel of Achilles.

* * *

 _"Now, Saber! He can be harmed now!"_

Hearing that and seeing Rider's weakness and pain, Siegfried shot forward. A strike to decapitate him was dodged inelegantly by Rider falling backwards, but Siegfried spun and lashed out with a kick. It connected, drawing forth a cry of pain as the kick launched Rider into the air. A combination of blows were desperately blocked by Rider, but his moment of weakness was too clear. His spear was deflected upwards, a slice narrowly connected with his side, but a shoulder check sent Rider reeling backwards while open. Balmung rose, and then fell towards Rider's unprotected chest.

Just as an arrow near doomed him, an arrow ended up saving Rider. An arrow shot by the enemy went straight for Siegfried's eye. Tilting his head, it only connected with his temple. Clearly too quick a shot to pierce his skin, it still carried enough force to disorient him. That was enough for Rider.

And quickly proved his boldness in not moving to create distance, but instead circling around to go for Siegfried's back. Siegfried whipped his sword over his head without turning, deflecting the blow to his weak-point while spinning with the move to turn and prepare for a new strike against his opponent.

Rider deflected this attack, but immediately fell back. That awe-inspiring speed had been crippled along with his heel, clearly, and with it several of his greatest strengths. Siegfried was pounding away, chipping at the desperate defense he was trying to put up.

Another black painted arrow streaked out of the tree line as Siegfried was distracted, shooting for the spot on his back. Chiron proved his prowess though. Another arrow came out to collide and block it in midair.

That stunning feat actually created a pause from the enemy Archer, allowing Siegfried to deal Rider several more wounds. It was not to last though. A barrage of arrows followed. They were directed at Siegfried's hand, redirecting a swing. Rider used that and shot up, one hand punching Siegfried under the jaw. He then moved again to gain Siegfried's back, but Siegfried countered. Only for the barrage to be followed by an arrow shot with enough force that when it impacted him in the shoulder, it threw Siegfried away in a tumble.

Which Rider of course used. Siegfried had to put his back to the ground to prevent the spear from striking him there, only to find Rider's knee on the wrist holding Balmung. He then brutally attempted to use his spear to gouge out Siegfried's eyes from that mounted position, but Siegfried fought back by using his free hand to punch him in the face. The simple attack worked, and allowed Siegfried to roll them over. Balmung rose, only for yet another arrow to hit Siegfried in the head. Rider's spear flashed as it connected with Siegfried's forehead, and Rider used Pankration knowledge to position Siegfried's head downwards while leaning forward to try and strike his back despite being on the bottom. An arrow now came from Chiron, striking Rider in the arm.

Choosing to disengage, Siegfried used his strength to lift and throw Rider away. Now with proper distance, Balmung could be put back into place.

And so it went. It was a brutal, messy fight. Even the great Achilles could not hope to defeat Siegfried with his heel struck, speed crippled, and invulnerability gone. However it was just a sign of how extraordinary a hero he was to even hang on. He held nothing back, also falling back into the tree line to hinder Chiron and use the trees to make swinging Balmung difficult.

The Archers also played a massive role. Chiron had a commanding position that was unassailable by the enemy Archer, but the sheer distance was a disadvantage. Not even arrows shot at the speed of sound could compensate for the speed of a fight between Servants. While he proved capable of shooting down any arrows headed for Siegfried's weak-point, it was a huge hindrance. Once they moved back into the forest, there were just too many obstructions. The enemy Archer clearly had a tactical advantage. Their ability to reposition in the tree line and fire arrows that only needed to cover a shorter distance meant Achilles received a constant stream of support, and whoever it was proved creative. Besides shots at his eyes and back, Siegfried had to deal with arrows hitting his ankles as he moved, impacting his hands in the middle of swings, even having a series of arrows hit around his foot while angled so as to create a weak cage that disrupted his movement. It was this alone that had allowed Achilles to survive.

Every second though, the victory by the Black Servants became more certain. Achilles was receiving wounds from Siegfried constantly, and already bore no less than a dozen minor wounds. Not that they hindered him much at all. However it had only been tricks and several lucky breaks and the help of Archer of Red that prevented Siegfried from ending the battle yet, and he was clearly running out of both tricks and luck.

Clearly it wasn't only Siegfried that saw the end coming.

* * *

 _"Rider, it is time to retreat. You've already lost your invulnerability. Only releasing your Noble Phantasm could bring you victory by now, and it would be a pointless one. Berserker has already been recalled by Command Seal. Archer can escape on her own while covering you."_

The voice of the priest rang out in Rider's head, his words drawing a scowl from the warrior. Even bloody, wounded, and clearly at a disadvantage, he had no desire to run. Fleeing wasn't in his nature as a hero.

As if sensing such thoughts, the priest continued, _"I shall use a Command Seal if necessary. You can fight to the end in the future if you so desire, but I won't allow you to be lost for this irrelevant bout."_

That didn't much help Rider's annoyance either, but it was enough. He could fight both Siegfried, and the enemy Archer who struck his heel-it better not be that pansy Paris- in the future. A true climactic clash, where he could show his true power. Not be blindsided by a shot to his weak-spot.

Still in a bad mood, he still jumped high into the air to dodge a renewed assault by Siegfried. He never came down though. With his True Name exposed, Achilles didn't hesitate to call forth his mounts. His chariot, _Troias Tragōidia_ , formed in midair as he alighted upon it. It then shot of at amazing speed as he yelled behind him, "This isn't over, Saber Siegfried. I showed you nothing here today. Tell your Archer as well. Next time I'll mow you down."

* * *

Siegfried could only watch as Rider streaked through the sky away. It was a shame. It was only from the efforts of the enemy Archer that Rider managed to survive Siegfried, and losing a hero such as Achilles would be a monumental blow to the enemy.

Still, they certainly got the better here. While both Siegfried and Achilles revealed their True Names, Achilles was the one that lost his immortality- _Andreias Amarantos_ -when his heel was struck. In the modern age, there was no way to restore that divine protection. Achilles was still certainly a first class Heroic Spirit, but it was a potentially decisive blow nonetheless.

Deciding to just be satisfied with the result, Siegfried looked towards where he knew Chiron had to be perched and sent a nod he no doubt could see. Without his support, it was entirely possible Siegfried would have found himself slayed before the enemy after using Balmung.

 _"Good job, Siegfried. Achilles is not someone that can be taken lightly even with the blow we dealt him here today, I should know, but we still dealt that blow…You should return quickly though. It appears Rider's little escape plan hasn't gone unnoticed."_

Siegfried sighed at that. That didn't sound like it was good. Knowing his luck, it would quickly spiral into disastrous.

He was right.

* * *

 **Okay, so there it is. I was aiming to actually split up and mix the Siegfried and Achilles' fight with Fran and Astolfo vs Berserk (you probably know who it is by now), but I wrote that entire fight scene in one sitting. Plus, I was already getting up there in word count (12,000). I'll do it next chapter.**

 **So besides Siegfried fighting Achilles one on one instead of with Fran, Siegfried also used Balmung here as he didn't fight the Command Seal as he had felt its power. So Gordes didn't have the time to cancel it with another Command Seal. The big change is Chiron hitting Achilles' heel. I won't make accusation, but Chiron _did_ recognize Achilles, knew his weakness, proved he could shoot down Atalanta's arrows in flights, and yet his first shot on Achilles hit him in the _shoulder_. So I just decided it would take extraordinary circumstances to manage it. He threaded the needle here.**

 **Also I'm not sure if it's said, but Achilles' immortality is gone now. I don't think it 'regenerates'. Maybe in life the gods could have restored it, but not here in the war. He's still badass, and his speed will recover.**

 **Otherwise, what do you think of the fight? I wrote it all in one sitting, and am a bit eager to get feedback. It's basically my first fight scene with a lot of original material, although writing a fight with the two fighters not able to harm each other for 75% of the time was hard. Too detailed, not detailed enough? Not enough Rule of Cool? Want to know, as there are more fights next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, at least I beat my last update time. I was still hoping to get it out earlier, but at least this is a long one. The real divergences also happen this chapter.**

* * *

Thrown backwards once again onto his back, Astolfo could only groan out, "Wah! This guy's insane!"

Astolfo still forced himself back to his feet, and came to the aid of Fran against the enemy Berserker. Fran had clearly not taken kindly to the way she'd been ejected from the group to split them up. Growling and attacking with a fierceness that clearly showed her class, Fran had quickly assumed the position as primary fighter between the two. Good thing too, as they were getting knocked around enough that Fran's surprising capability to take and recover from damage soon became invaluable.

Not that it did much against their enemy. The enemy Berserker was matching them blow for blow, and actually pushing them back. All with a great grin on his face.

It was kind of scary, for Astolfo. He couldn't leave Fran alone though. She'd surely lose to this opponent alone.

Indeed, he was confronted with the sight of the two Berserker's clashing. With furious screams, Fran swung her great mace. Its length and the momentum of its weight surely surpassed her opponent's swords, but the enemy clearly had enough raw strength to render that null. Using the hilts of his swords to halt the head, even blocking with his bare arms if necessary despite the pain it had to cause him, he could then attack with reckless abandonment.

And it was reckless abandonment. Surely if he used his swords properly, his greater strength and speed would give him a major advantage over Fran. Yet he chose to fight like a wild animal, almost. He was content to only block the harsher hits Fran attempted, receiving the more glancing blows with a growing grin and returning them in full. His legs were utilized in full, how Astolfo had once again been kicked away, and sometimes he even punched Fran instead of using the blades he wielded.

Seeing the enemy once again be clipped on his side by Fran's mace, only for the enemy to use that to power a spin that resulted in a kick smashing into Fran's back and sending her through a tree forced Astolfo to jump back into the fight. Trying to attack by surprise from the side failed, the enemy immediately turning and receiving Astolfo's assault. Using one blade to knock the lance to the side, overbalancing Astolfo, and the one smashed down near his grip so hard Astolfo had no choice but to drop it. Berserker juked forward then, shoulder checking Astolfo and pushing him back so hard he had to roll to end up back on his feet instead of on his back.

Astolfo was then forced to watch as Berserker just outright kicked the lance into the forest. Astolfo deadpanned at him before pulling down an eyelid as he taunted, "Who cares? I got a sword too."

"Then let's see how good you are with it," Berserker said without faltering, soon attacking. Astolfo immediately out his sword-having no intent of trying to exchange fists with this monster. It was a simply sword, but very solid and well crafted…It didn't handle well against Berserk's swords though. That just might be Astolfo though. Soon he found himself being falling back as he fended off blows. His own surprising strength failing against the dual assault he found himself trying to repel. Soon another kick lashed out-geez, he'd never fought a person who felt it necessary to kick so much even when dual wielding-forcing Astolfo to bend backwards to avoid being punted away… _again_.

Too far backwards, it soon became apparent when his balance failed and he found himself on his back. Berserker looming above him, that predatory grin still fixed on his face.

"Kyaa, no! No, get away!" Astolfo screamed out as he tried to distance himself from his opponent, walking like a crab backwards as he desperately tried to avoid the attempts of Berserker to finish him off from his advantageous position.

"Tch, stop screaming. Take your beating with dignity," Berserker grunted out, startlingly casual even as he attempted to stab Astolfo. The erratic and panicked attempts by Astolfo to escape seemingly posing a more troublesome defense than more measured movements would.

"Never! I don't want to be beaten," Astolfo shot back automatically, mouth running as he desperately avoided the enemy strikes. Actually rolling out of the way of a stomp, Astolfo protested indignantly, "Did you just try to stomp on me?! I'm not a bug."

"No, you're just a woman crawling on the ground who's annoyingly difficult to kill," Berserker replied, if anything once again disregarding his swords in favor of repeatedly trying to stomp on his crawling opponent now.

"I'm a guy, just a cute one in fabulous clothing," Astolfo shot back, actually causing Berserker to pause for a moment with one leg still raised in a stomp. "Ha, got you!" Astolfo cried out, stabbing out with his sword at that moment of weakness, Berserker's switching to stomping having brought him closer than when he'd been using his swords.

And it actually worked. To his own surprise, Astolfo's blade stabbed into his lower abdomen-Astolfo couldn't reach higher from his current position. The tip extending out his back.

Both fighters were just a slight bit shocked by that. Any feeling of triumph on Astolfo's side when Berserker dropped one of his swords was quickly squashed though when Berserker used his now free hand to grasp Astolfo's wrist in a grip like steel. Astolfo only was able to let out a squeak before Berserker jerked him upwards-actually stabbing the blade further through himself till the cross guard was pressed against his skin-while smashing his head down to head-butt him so hard enough stars appeared before Astolfo's eyes they outnumbered the ones in the sky.

"Hehe, pretty stars," Astolfo giggled out groggily, before he collapsed on his back.

"Who cares if you're a guy? Man or woman, I disregard all that when it comes to fighting. I'm progressive like that," Berserker said uncaringly, even as he pulled out Astolfo's sword from his own stomach and tossed it into the forest. He then jumped to the side to avoid Fran's vengeful returning blow, the mace making a small crater where Berserker had just been standing. However he counterattacked quickly, launching back at Fran. Using his remaining sword to once again block her next blow with the hilt, he used his free hand to grasp her shoulder and then head-butt _her_ while declaring, "A good brawl strips away all that which doesn't matter. A person's true self is always shown in that moment."

Fran clumsily stumbled backwards, her head tilted back from the blow and her legs shaking. However any thought that she was about to follow Astolfo's example was ended when instead a growl came out of her mouth. Straightening from her bent back posture revealed a bloody forehead and absolutely furious eyes. She then completed the arc by bending forward, using the arc to slam her mace into the ground before her with a scream.

"Huh," Berserker grunted with a frown at the attack that blatantly missed.

Until a pillar of lightning engulfed him. A pained grunt echoed out-probably the closest to a scream of pain such a beast of a man could let out-as electricity ran through his nerves and sent his muscles twitching. The light soon faded, showing a small area of burned grass around him that stopped just short of Fran and Astolfo's feet. Berserker was still standing though, even as lightning visibly jumped across his body.

Astolfo knew the opportunity before him. Having thankfully had several seconds to recover from that disorientating head-butt, he was able to quickly get his feet under him. He then jumped from a crouching position, his sword left on the ground leaving him weaponless. Until an array of golden lights gathered together to form his lance, right as it pierced Berserker's leg. Astolfo was then behind him, a grin on his lips.

" **Trap of Argalia: Down with a Touch!** "

Berserker naturally stumbled, a hole now in his right leg. However this hole didn't bleed like normal wounds. It instead revealed the nature of Servants as merely magical constructs. The flesh had disappeared, leaving an empty hole in flesh that bled specs of golden light.

It then went further, Bersker's entire right leg from the wound down glowing gold before disappearing. Berserker fell with a grunt at the loss of support, ending up on the ground as if forced to take a knee.

And Fran then took it yet another step further. Using that opening, she stepped forward while swinging her mace in a horizontal arc that left it to connect with Berserker's head. Even the raised arm he attempted to block with wasn't enough from such a strong blow and from such a position of weakness. The block folded in, and the mace connected with his skull with an audible crack and sent him flying.

Through a tree.

…Astolfo was quite pleased at the well served comeuppance.

Astolfo gave a cheer before sticking her tongue out at the sprawled out form of Berserker as he yelled, "Hah, I can just dematerialize my lance and reform it. So kicking it into the forest did nothing, idiot!"

If Astolfo could claim to have actually planned it this way, it would have been a brilliant plan. Allowing his seemingly mundane lance to be disarmed and thrown away, only to reveal it at the critical moment due to a Noble Phantasm's ability to be turned into spirit form. He hadn't planned it though.

Astolfo was just fine with it being a lucky coincidence, however. Better a lucky idiot than a cursed genius was a philosophy he had all but lived by.

Fran just growled though.

Especially when Berserker shot up, throwing off the debris he'd been partially buried under, and declared, "Good, good. This is just what I meant. A brawl strips away everything unimportant. You two looked frail and weak, but there's a good bit of fight in you. Good, good. Much more fun that way."

"I'd be insulted, but I really don't like the feeling I'm getting right now," Astolfo let out, chuckling awkwardly as he took a few steps back.

Argalia was a magical lance Astolfo had come into possession of. It wasn't an overly dangerous weapon by itself. It would make holes in flesh and kill someone if used right, but its real power came from a magical effect. To force everyone it touched to fall, as in fall to the ground. As a Servant, this manifested by dematerializing the enemy Servant's physical form below the knee. However the duration of this dematerialization was determined by the enemy's Luck parameter. For the leg to have reformed already meant he had to possess a very high Luck. That was never a good thing, to have a lucky enemy.

Indeed, it wasn't hard to tell something was wrong. As he approached, it was clear to see Berserker had taken more than a bit of damage. The stab wound in his stomach was clear, severe even if not enough to down a Servant, and Fran's blow had split the skin on his head enough that a positive stream of blood ran down his face and dripped onto his bare chest.

Yet, that grin was still on his face. Actually, it might have been wider and even more manic in intensity. His other appearance had become more…intense as well. His skin seemed to have darkened slightly, and those great scars over his body were vividly red. The one sword he still carried also now glowed as red as blood.

Apparently being stabbed, taking a hit from the weakened version of Fran's Noble Phantasm, and taking a mace to the head was merely enough to make him kick it up a notch.

Rolling his shoulders, Berserker waved his sword as he commented, "This is about to get fun."

"No, it won't," a colder voice interrupted.

And Berserker was forced to avoid a spike stabbing up from the ground, pure instinct guiding him. His sword smashed another that rose behind him, then ducked to avoid several that flew through the air, and finally jumped to avoid several that rose from the ground and would have pierced his feet. After that he got a moment of reprieve, as the new participant joined them properly.

Pale skin and long, silky white hair contrasted with his royal garments that were black as night. Cold eyes stared at Berserker. It was clear Berserker was being viewed as a mere obstacle, to be quantified and then destroyed. No…

 _Impaled._

"I shall take over. You did intrude upon _my_ lands, dealing an insult to myself and my authority," Vlad, Lancer of Black, spoke up.

"Oh, so you're the king here despite being a Servant," Berserker replied, unbothered by his threat. Tilting his head in thought, he instead continued, "Nope. I don't get you. Get _that_. To take up that burden once again…Nope. Don't get it. You and I are surely totally incompatible."

"I agree. My enemies and I can never coexist. Nothing more to it than that," Vlad claimed simply, unbothered by Berserker's words. He then threatened darkly, "So I'll be taking care of you now then."

Astolfo decided to use this opportunity. Quickly grabbing his dropped sword and dematerializing his lance, he moved and pat Vlad on the back as he boisterously claimed, "Alright, my king. I'll leave it to you. I need to go pick splinters out of my outfit…I got kicked through an annoyingly large amount of trees." He ended with another glare at Berserker.

"Leave, Rider," Vlad finally cut off any more talk he might come up with, not removing his eyes from the enemy. "You too, Berserker. You've done enough."

Fran growled, but obeyed. Her white dress was stained red in multiple places from multiple cuts she had sustained, even if Berserker had seemed to take some pleasure in kicking them through trees rather than use his swords. Astolfo was not at all reluctant, and took the opportunity to move quickly back to the castle. This would be their best chance to slip out unnoticed, Astolfo and the homunculus who still lacked a name. He'd have preferred if Saber and Archer weren't already engaged to run interference, but what can you do?

The only other reaction to the change of opponent was Berserker. Not from fear, but discontent. With a frown finally replacing his smile, he grunted out, "A shame. We were finally having fun. Interrupting a brawl is just plain annoying, _your Majesty_."

Ignoring the sarcastic tone Berserker ended with, Vlad drew another spike from one hand as a grander spear appeared in his other one. "I assure you. It won't matter to you for long."

Berserker didn't have any time to respond before he found himself not only under assault from both Lancer personally but also the numerous spikes that appeared from just about everywhere and only appeared to be growing larger in number. Smacking Lancer's spear away, he was forced to bend awkwardly to avoid several different streams of stakes flying at him from several directions. That was enough for Lancer to use his spear to disarm his final blade.

Rather than mourn the loss though, Berserker used his now free hand to grip the length of his opponent's spear. He then held it still with his superior strength, and lashed out with his other fist to try and knock Lancer's block off. However Lancer's superior agility allowed him to dodge easily, and then with another spike from his palm proceeded to stab it upwards into Berserker's bicep.

Grunting in pain, Berserker had to jump backwards to gain some distance. However this time spikes arose from the ground right where he was going to land, and so there was nothing he could do as they pierced his calves. He kept upright despite the force and pain, but was now staked to the ground.

"You live up to your legend as the Lord Impaler, Vlad III," Berserker uttered, uncaring of his impaled arm and legs. Unsurprisingly, as the aura Astolfo had started to sense earlier fully manifested. Berserker's skin turned brown, his black tattoos turned gold, and a visible red aura started flowing off his skin. Ripping the spike out of his arm without care, and then ripping his legs away from the spikes despite the gaping and jagged wounds they left, he then got into a melee fighting stance as he continued, "I prefer matching fists with someone without weapons getting in the way, if at all possible, but I'll gladly use this opportunity to fight the man who held off armies and inspired myths of fear and blood."

Unbothered by the transformation, Lancer only stiffened at his final words before he announced in a voice like ice, "And I will use this opportunity to impale you as a warning to all those who would threaten us. This is my territory, and I shall impale anyone who wants to try and take it from me."

Berserker only frowned though, tilting his head slightly as if listening to something, before saying. "That sucks."

Then he was gone, with but a crack and his lack of presence to show his disappearance.

Vlad scowled, but was unsurprised. Masters can see through their Servants' eyes, and even Berserker's strength and fearlessness would have fallen to Vlad here. Vlad wouldn't have allowed his opponent to flee. A Command Seal to bend time and space to force Berserker's return was the only solution if the enemy wasn't willing to sacrifice him here.

A shame, but unimportant. They would come again. They had to…and he would be here waiting for them when they did.

Moving on, Vlad turned to where he had previously seen a flash of light. Saber's Master had used a Command Seal to force the use of a Noble Phantasm. What madness! For a man who had seemed so determined to keep Saber's identity secret, he had been all too quick to reveal it under pressure. Lancer would need to have a… _discussion_ with Gordes. Vlad couldn't imagine a more magnificent warrior than Siegfried. If Gordes was going to risk Saber's safety or cause more damage by using up valuable Command Seals for trifling matters and revealing his True Name, Vlad would without hesitation force the transfer of Saber's Command Seals to a more fitting Master. Wars could not be won without sacrifices, but priorities had to be maintained in regards to those sacrifices. Vlad would sacrifice a thousand Gordes for but a single Siegfried without hesitation.

Saber was still fighting too, showing the move was wasted effort as well. Archer was supporting, and appeared to be too focused to provide him with updates on the battle. It would probably be too late for him to interfere though, based on the distances.

He'd return to the castle, and give Gordes his warning. That was where Saber would return to.

* * *

Siegfried wasn't quite sure what to expect upon his return to Yggdmillennia Castle. A debriefing would have been ideal, where they'd ensure all information gathered today was disseminated to the Servants and Masters. Things seemed too disorganized though, and he soon found why.

Lancer and Darnic, the two leaders of their faction, seemed to be more focused on Siegfried's own master. Seated upon a plush couch, Gordes was however sitting stiff. His hands were gripping his thighs, and his head was lowered to look at the ground rather than the two before him. His face too was a deep red, although whether from shame or anger was unknown.

The two cold leaders noted his appearance calmly. Darnic turned away from Gordes with furious eyes despite his placid expression, looking at Siegfried as he complimented, "Ah, Saber. Be at ease. Despite the…unfortunate incident incited by Gordes here-" This drew a visible tremble from Gordes that was ignored. "-You performed admirably. Truly, only a remarkable Servants could face off against one such as Achilles."

"We must still acknowledge that which we sacrificed here," Lancer interrupted his Master's tendency towards flattery. Lancer was cold as he spoke thoughtfully, "The enemy lost more, but we still lost the advantage of your True Name becoming known. We must reconsider what role you'll play. You are no longer an invincible warrior, but a man with a fatal weakness."

Siegfried nodded, the Command Seal still preventing him from speaking. Everyone had a weakness, but there was a great difference between knowing that and knowing the weakness itself. The enemy Lancer had been able to ascertain that Siegfried could be wounded with enough force. However the nature of _Armor of Fafnir_ meant that just about any attempt to kill Siegfried through brute force would be pointless. It would take an immensely powerful Noble Phantasm to do so. Even an A ranked Noble Phantasm would only be able to inflict injuries he could shake off. Beyond that was a weapon very few Heroic Spirits possessed, and so most would pointlessly attack him until they learned that. Any Servant could kill him if they struck the point on his back though. The enemy would now surely concentrate on achieving that rather than merely throwing stronger and stronger Noble Phantasms at him in hopes of succeeding. All the energy, effort, and information they would have lost from their fruitless attempts was now gone. The enemy efficiency against Siegfried was incomparably boosted.

Darnic soon chimed in while glaring at Gordes again, "Your True Name remaining hidden would have been worth multiple Command Seals, much less using a Command Seal to reveal it. Only luck or a fatally bad matchup with an enemy Servants could have resulted in your defeat. Now…We must at least have someone guarding your back from here on out…Rider is the best choice. He is the only unfettered Servant with a suitable skill set."

Siegfried obviously had no problem with that, but he gained an ill feeling when he saw Darnic's eyes lose focus in a way that spoke of telepathic communication. His face gained an outright bewildered expression after a moment, before he regained control. However he still seemed…confused, even outright baffled if that confusion was showing on his face.

"It appears that Rider, with the homunculus that escaped recently, has tripped several of the traps and boundary fields around the castle," Darnic announced.

Okay, it was easy to understand his confusion now. This wouldn't have made any sense to a magus. Homunculi had too little will to achieve anything on their own, not without outside help, and on top of that they were physically flawed. They would die quick and inevitably. To magi, who typically quantified everything into achievements and successes, they were practically irrelevant beings who achieved nothing and left no lasting impact. A magi would be shocked a homunculus was capable of rebelling at all.

As for Rider. It too made no sense. Why help such a being? He couldn't be attempting to escape. He'd be cut off from his prana supply in such a case, and disappear. Yet trying to _save_ a homunculus was…

No, to a mage such as Darnic there was no sense to this event. Even outright betrayal would have been more understandable to him.

"Gordes. Take Saber and stop them," Darnic quickly ordered, apparently leaving the confusion behind for action.

Gordes was about to protest, likely at the perceived lowliness of the task, but Lancer now cut in with a voice that sent Gordes quailing, "Rider is a Servant. No matter his motives, if he struggles he needs to be restrained. Saber is most suited for that. You meanwhile need to prove you can be trusted. If you can't be, I've already told you what will happen. I'm already considering transferring your remaining Command Seal to the Lady Fiore. She has established a working relationship with Archer well, and is immensely talented. Supplying two Servants also wouldn't be an issue due to the homunculus. So prove you aren't a liability, or else."

Gordes stiffened, both from terror at the threat or indignation over being labeled a 'liability', but nodded and moved quickly out of the room.

And a crucial command went unsaid. That the homunculus should be returned _alive_ for Caster's work. An error that would prove to create many regrets.

Siegfried moved to follow his Master automatically. His mind was elsewhere. They were considering transferring his Command Seals? In truth, he had considered that possibility little. Gordes was a member of Yggdmillennia. Expecting them to turn on him for a Servant was outrageous, but they weren't doing it for Siegfried. They were doing it as Gordes had threatened the war effort.

Did he want that though? While Siegfried had undeniably resented Gordes for his actions so far, he didn't hate him. He merely acknowledged the man had his flaws, like everyone, and that he didn't have particular compatibility with himself. Siegfried knew little of Archer's Master as well, having focused almost entirely on his own and the other Servants. It wouldn't be a practical problem, it was just…

Siegfried found himself dissatisfied with the idea of being… _traded_.

Siegfried eventually decided to put it to the back of his mind once they left the castle. A more immediate problem was before him. How to handle this situation?

Siegfried saw something from the edge of his eyesight, and turned to look upon Archer. He had clearly similarly learned of Rider's detection, and gained a vantage point to look in the direction Siegfried guessed Rider was. Meeting eyes, Archer merely gave him a shrug that Siegfried translated as him basically urging Siegfried to do his best. That there was nothing he could really do to assist.

Fantastic…Now Siegfried had to figure out how to deal with this situation. He needed to gain the homunculus his freedom, get Rider to return, try to prevent Rider from getting punished, and not do anything that could count as treason in the mind of Lancer. Hearing his Master grumbling under his breath as they covered ground to where no doubt the failing traps and boundary fields indicated Rider and the homunculus were, Siegfried also amended to include preventing his Master from using his final Command Seal.

Gordes had shown himself to be liberal in their use when on edge, and based on the lecture he had just received from Lancer and Darnic he was certainly that at the moment.

Unfortunately, Siegfried didn't have as much time as he hoped to ponder how he could possibly accomplish all these demands. Gordes was moving at his top speed from necessity, and Rider and the homunculus seemed to be moving at a slow pace. Likely due to the physical limitations of the homunculus. Leaving through the back, eastern-gate they quickly reached a river that was part of the defenses of the castle. Gordes however deactivated them, and the two were soon trekking up a steep mountain. As they traveled up, the trail of Rider became clearer-clearly the homunculus was slowing down. The landscape also meant that Siegfried and Gordes were able to get ahead of the two when Gordes had Siegfried pick him up and cross some harsher land that the homunculus had been forced to walk around.

So eventually the two merely waited until Rider and the homunculus-who was forced to lean onto Rider with almost all his weight to keep moving-appeared before them. Sighing deeply, Rider looked at his companion and asked nonchalantly, "Are you sure you're not keeping a secret or two from me? Are you actually a Servant?"

"I don't think so," the homunculus replied in matching confusion. Even Siegfried was a bit unsure on why he had been sent. It was but one homunculus, out of hundreds in the castle. To Yggdmillennia, they were cheap and not worth much effort. One could argue that pursuing the homunculus wasn't even worth the effort or attention. Rider's Master was still fine and possessed her Command Seals, so there was no reason to think he was escaping. Allowing Rider to 'save' a single homunculus was but a trifle if it kept the Servant happy. That should be the thought process, yet here they were.

Gordes however was just annoyed, saying, "We cannot allow this to continue. Return that homunculus, and come back with us, Rider."

"Nope," was Rider's almost instantaneous response. He clearly didn't even have to think about it.

Which unsurprisingly vexed Gordes, who gnashed his teeth and told Siegfried, "Saber, restrain Rider."

Siegfried paused, and briefly closed his eyes as he came to a decision. Opening his mouth, he managed to force out, "N-No…Mas…ter."

"What?!" Rider yelled out, pointing at him with wide eyes. "You just talked! You, the super silent Saber."

Gordes was just as shocked, before reddening as he hissed out, "You dare talk?"

Siegfried didn't react to either reaction. It had been a while for him to get to this point. The thing about Command Seals were that they were limited. Powerful, yes, but still limited in prana. If released in a single burst they could accomplish feats bordering on magic. However other orders they were less efficient in.

Such as the command for Siegfried to not speak. A more clever use of it would have been to rewrite Siegfried's thought process so that he wouldn't even desire to talk. It would have a single change to his mind with a permanent effect. Instead however Gordes had basically used it to power a spell that restrained his ability to speak whenever he desired to do so. However because that spell took power to function, every time it restrained him it drained a portion of the limited power of the Command Seal. So after days of restraining him every time he desired to talk, it had inevitably started to reach its limit. By now, it didn't even have enough power to fully restrain him. He could just push through it.

He had felt it start failing half a day earlier, but had felt little need to push it when they had been preparing for the enemy attack. Now however…he chose to speak. Very fitting, considering this was concurrent with his current desire to disobey Gordes' orders.

"I'm…so…rry…Mas…ter…plea…se…list…en," Siegfried said as he positioned himself between Gordes and the other two.

However Gordes was in no mood to listen to the halting speech Siegfried could force out. "No, I am tired of this." Gordes moved right around Siegfried and grabbed the homunculus without care. Pulled away from the support of Rider, the exhausted homunculus all but collapsed, but Rider and Siegfried now acted despite the overly bold move by Gordes. Rider caught the falling homunculus, and Siegfried grasped Gordes' wrist hard enough that he was forced to release the homunculus.

"Stop, Master," Siegfried spoke smoother-the Command Seal's attempts to prevent him speaking fading to nothing. Gordes gaped, and so he continued, "I'm sorry but if possible, I would ask that you heal this homunculus and let him go."

"What are you saying, Saber?" Gordes spoke in a quivering voice, clearly thrown off by Siegfried speaking. Calming himself, he soon demanded in the strict tone of a Master, "Do not speak nonsense, Saber. Why should I heal and then release it?"

"I speak to your good nature, Master. It would not disadvantage us particularly to grant him salvation," Siegfried spoke, actually relishing the ability to do so. While always taciturn and of few words, having the ability taken from him left him with a greater appreciation now that he could again. "And if that is not enough, I would ask it as a boon for serving you. Surely the cost is worth the satisfaction of both Rider and myself."

"…Shut up…" Gordes mumbled, growing red in pure anger and resentment as he yelled, "Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! Serving me?! What you've done can't even be called that. You deserve no reward. A _familiar_ deserves no reward for the one who brought it into being. Neither you or Rider, nor that homunculus created through _my_ magecraft have any place to demand something from me. So what place do you have doing so now?"

Rider now stepped forward, standing at Siegfried's side even as he all but help up the homunculus, and declared without hesitation while also facing the familiar probably projecting this to the rest of the Masters and Servants at the castle, "As heroes. We took form in this world at this time for a wish…but that _doesn't mean we can just accept whatever happens in that pursuit_. We have not forgotten ourselves as heroes. I am Servant Rider…but I am and shall always be one of Charlemagne's paladins, Astolfo! I won't abandon one who was helpless and asked for my aid. I won't. _We_ won't."

Siegfried felt oddly shamed by Astolfo's heartfelt words and feelings. Siegfried…didn't know himself as a hero. All he knew was himself as a wish granting machine, someone who followed the wishes of others as he himself didn't know his own ideals or desires. He felt…no, he _knew_ that he could very easily have found himself on the opposite end of this exchange. It wasn't ideals placing himself on this side, but circumstance.

Gordes' only reaction to the speech was to glare, particularly at Siegfried, with clear enmity.

Siegfried finally just repeated, "Will you save him?"

Instead Gordes growled out harshly, "What 'hero'? You two are not heroes. You are familiars. The real Astolfo died long ago. The real Siegfried died long ago. You two are mere Servants. Shells made through magecraft, and programmed with the data of _actual_ heroes to better serve as familiars. You aren't them. You're shells merely programmed to think you're them, but you aren't. You're just tools to be wielded by living magus."

"As for Servants," Gordes continued his harsh diatribe, now glaring at Siegfried again, "In even that you're a failure. Not even accomplishing the simplest of orders. Forcing me to use Command Seals to order you around, and I'm the one that got blamed…No, you deserve no boons. Neither as heroes nor as Servants."

"And if you will not serve willingly, I shall make you serve regardless."

Siegfried felt himself pale as he felt the third Command Seal started taking effect, flowing through him before he could render Gordes' unconscious.

" _Saber, I order you by Command Seal…Kill that homunculus. Then defeat-_ " Gordes further order to defeat and subdue Rider were abandoned when the similarly paling Rider leapt forward. Punching him in the stomach, the frail looking Servant still had more than enough strength to knock him out.

The damage was done though. If anything, Rider's desperate act had only enhanced it. Maybe if the rest of the order had been said '- _Rider, subdue him, and bring him back to the castle_ ' the order would have been widespread enough that Siegfried could have fought it to some degree. Instead, all of the Command Seal's power was focused in one order.

 _Kill that homunculus._

* * *

It was only the homunculus collapsing after losing Rider's support that prevented the thin and small child from being decapitated with Siegfried's first swing of Balmung. The sword came back around, on an arc that would drive it into the ground and split the homunculus in half. This was only stopped by Astolfo all but tackling Siegfried, smartly not even trying to compete with Siegfried in regards to weaponry. Not to mention the time he would have needed to draw or materialize a weapon would have left the homunculus lying in two pieces.

It could be wondered if Astolfo had realized that or whether he had just acted without thought and got lucky.

The flying tackle interrupted Siegfried's blow enough that it dug into the ground right beside the homunculus, but a mere stumble was all that was achieved before Siegfried recovered his balance. It was then simple for the far stronger Siegfried to tear Astolfo off him, and then send him flying.

"Run," Astolfo yelled at the homunculus from where he was sent sprawling.

It was useless though. The homunculus was frozen. Even as Siegfried moved slowly till he was standing over him, so slowly it could almost be viewed as placid. Balmung rose into the air, preparing to come down and cleave the homunculus apart.

This seemed to finally force the homunculus to action, his will to survive shining through when his life was so blatantly in danger. Rolling over, he grabbed at Siegfried's ankle, and whispered, " _Straße / gehen_ ( _ **Logic path / open**_ )…"

The contact allowed Siegfried to sense it. The magic circuits heating up enough to harm the homunculus. Prana flowed through both the homunculus and the ankle he gripped. Perceiving the composition of the body part, analyzing it, and seeking to destroy it. The prana changed into the form most suitable to rend flesh and crushing bone. The palm became the barrel of a gun-the sheath of a sword-directing and guiding the destructive force of the spell.

…Of course, it failed. There was no other reasonable option. Not with _Armor of Fafnir_ still in effect. No modern magus could harm Siegfried appreciably, much less the inherent skills of a homunculus casted through the Musik Alchemy magecraft. His thaumaturgy couldn't even hope to compare with a modern magus who properly studied such thaumaturgy, much less a physical defense formed when the Age of Gods still persisted. All that resulted from the attempt was a small explosion that only really harmed the homunculus.

It did however force Siegfried to pause for a moment. The Command Spell only throwing another wrench in the battle instincts that was meant to guide Siegfried to either withdraw or counter, in this case leaving him frozen. An opportunity Astolfo used.

" **Trap of Argalia: Down with a Touch** ," Astolfo yelled, once again materializing his lance but a moment before contact. All Siegfried did was tilt an elbow to block the point of the lance, his defense not allowing the lance to even scratch his skin, but it mattered little. The Noble Phantasm of Astolfo did not need to inflict a wound, or even hit the opponent's leg. Its effect operated on different principles, and so Siegfried found himself suddenly tilting as one half of his base disappeared with his lower leg. This was combined with yet another tackle by Astolfo, which with his surprising strength and Siegfried's complete lack of balance finally allowed him to send Siegfried flying.

Rather than push his advantage, Astolfo crouched at the side of the homunculus. The failed spell had certainly harmed the one casting it in this case. Still with a weak body not capable of handling his first class magic circuits, the attempt let his entire body shivering from the damaged flesh and nerves around every magic circuit.

Seeing the complete inability of the homunculus to realistically flee under his own power, Astolfo looked to the side where Siegfried had been sent flying. It was…honestly quite terrifying. Siegfried was _crawling_ towards him at quite a speed, the Command Seal clearly caring little in his missing lower leg and continued to force him to move to kill the homunculus. Siegfried's green eyes were blank, but the intent to kill was palpable. Like a guillotine. There was no feeling, just the inescapable intent of a tool created to kill.

It was more than enough to tell Astolfo they needed to get out of there. Even without a leg, Astolfo had little confidence-nor the desire-in being able to kill the-now revealed-invincible Siegfried. Crouching down, he picked the homunculus up before running away from the too close Siegfried before yelling, "I know you didn't want to, but there is no choice. Hippogriff, come!"

With that, Astolfo's most famous mount appeared in a release of golden light. The impossible mix of griffin and mare that was the legendary Hippogriff was made real. The phantasmal beast that had the front half of an eagle and the back half of a horse.

Quickly reaching its side, Astolfo pushed the slumped over and only partially conscious form of the homunculus onto its back. It was annoyingly difficult, and deadly slow in that Siegfried was once against gaining now that he had stopped running away. It would have been better in the short term to just run on foot, but once Siegfried's leg regenerated that would not be so. While Siegfried's legendarily bad luck meant Argalia would stay in effect longer than it had Berserker earlier, it would end. The hippogriff was their only chance to outrace him overall, and this moment of weakness was the sole chance they had to mount it.

Finally getting the homunculus on, Astolfo quickly mounted behind him. Holding him in place, he then called out, "Go, Hippogriff. Away, now."

The hippogriff moved immediately, gaining elevation and speed at a thoroughly unnatural pace suited for a phantasmal beast that defied modern logic.

It wasn't fast enough though. Astolfo immediately sensed something wrong with his mount. There was too much weight and the mount was thrashing around. Astolfo looked down below with a sinking heart, soon confirming his fear.

Siegfried had managed to reach out and grip one of the hippogriff's back legs right before it flew off, and was now dangling below them. Balmung clenched in one hand, the other holding him up, and one leg still missing. Astolfo then watched as Siegfried lifted himself up partially with one hand to swing Balmung into the backside of the hippogriff.

Squawking at the pain, the mount started bucking so badly even Astolfo was barely holding on. It was even worse for Siegfried, who found himself being kicked repeatedly with the other back horse leg of the beast he had hitched a ride on and attacked. A hoof repeatedly slammed into him, only the raised arm holding Balmung protecting his head. That alongside _Armor of Fafnir_ was enough though, and another slash with Balmung opened up the kicking leg. Shrieking and screeching even more at the pain of the intruder's attack, the hippogriff moved once again without Astolfo's permission. Bending into a ball, the hippogriff used its front legs-the talons of an eagle, to attack Siegfried. One talon grabbed Siegfried's arm in a tight grip, while the other lashed out in an attempt to scratch out Siegfried's eyes, face, neck, and just everywhere it could reach. To no effect, _Armor of Fafnir_ protecting him successfully even from the attack of a phantasmal beast. He instead continued lashing out with Balmung, cutting the hippogriff's legs and stomach.

This impromptu midair battle of course rendered riding the hippogriff troublesome, to say the least. Desperately holding on to both beast and his helpless passenger, Astolfo was all but crying as the hippogriff started descending from its inability to focus on flying.

"Waaaah! You stupid bird!" Astolfo squealed when it became clear the hippogriff was outright descending. It wasn't even falling anymore. It was now purposefully diving down, holding Siegfried in place for what was clearly an attempt to smash Siegfried into the ground at full charge speed.

Mount or not, Siegfried's attack seemingly made it forget the riders on its back.

"This is gonna hurt," Astolfo groaned out before jumping off the hippogriff before it smashed into the ground, trying to counterattack the current momentum by jumping in the opposite direction right before impact. Astolfo then spun in midair, clutching the homunculus to his chest while repositioning them so his back would hit the ground first. Several tress were in the way-man, just how many trees had he gone through today?-slowing them down moderately before his back finally smashed into the ground. Skipping on the ground several times, he still managed to keep the homunculus from taking the direct impact of their landing. Eventually final coming to a halt, Astolfo let out a groan before muttering, "Yep…it hurt."

Taking several moments to gather himself and allow the pain in his back to fade, Astolfo looked at the homunculus he was still clutching. The weak figure was clearly entirely unconscious by this point, but Astolfo didn't see anything to indicate fatal damage. He'd definitely be needing medical attention though.

Astolfo placed him on the ground softly before looking to survey the damage of the crash between his hippogriff and Siegfried. A great gouge was in the earth, the impact gouging a long scar and sending up a great cloud of smoke and debris that partially covered the result. The hippogriff's full charge attack had the impact of an A ranked physical attack. To then smash into the ground like that could only result in such devastation.

Now was that enough to put down the invincible Siegfried? That was less certain.

So Astolfo was forced to wait. The homunculus was in too bad of shape to move, at least except to an area where immediate medical care could be assumed. That suicide attack would also sideline his Hippogriff for a time till it could heal in the Reverse Side of the World. He had little choice right now.

Which only made it worse when Astolfo spotted Siegfried's figure walking through the cloud of dust towards him. Slow and measured, every step made Astolfo's heart plunge deeper into his stomach. Once Siegfried exited the cloud, Astolfo was able to see his state. Some of his armor was torn off, but actual damage on Siegfried himself appeared minor at best.

Even an attack like that, from a phantasmal beast, was only capable of that.

Truly, this was a man who killed a far fiercer phantasmal beast, a great dragon, when he was still but a human without supernatural gifts. Only with that sword in hand. Even a hippogriff could only do so much.

Astolfo wasn't going to let that stop him from trying though. If his hippogriff failed, he'd try something else. Even if Argalia failed, he'd keep trying. Not until his own life was spent would he stop trying. Not only for the homunculus, but also for Siegfried. Astolfo just knew, without ever having a single proper conversation with him, that his once silent friend being forced to kill the homunculus would just be too cruel.

" **La Black Luna: Magic Flute that Calls Panic** ," Astolfo called out, gripping the small hunting horn that was yet another of his noble phantasms. Gripping the small magic horn in one hand, it then faded and was replaced by a far larger horn that wrapped around his body. Taking a deep breath, he then blew it. A vicious sound like that of a roar of a dragon, screech of an giant eagle, and neighing of a divine horse rang out in a glowing white wave of destructive sound.

This blast smashed into Siegfried, only for him to not even have a hitch in his step in response. He just continued on, the C ranked Noble Phantasm doing nothing besides numbing his hearing. Like an unstoppable force, he tore through such flimsy obstacles put before him.

Refusing to give up, Astolfo drew his sword and tried to attack that way. That was an even worse failure. Siegfried's swordsmanship was far beyond his own, and his superior physical parameters only widened the gap. It took but a single exchange for Astolfo's sword to be sent flying through the air. He was able to back up due to Siegfried's empty eyes being fixed purely on the homunculus. Astolfo was clearly no different from a tree standing in his way. A minor obstacle to be circumvented. Not even regarded as a threat.

Still not giving up, Astolfo materialized his lance in the midst of another thrust. That trick had already been used though, and Siegfried's free hand caught it behind the tip in his grip. He didn't even deign to pause in his pace. He kept walking, even as Astolfo tried to use the lance to push him back. His hand grasping it didn't budge, and every step he took forced Astolfo back-his heels digging small trenches in the ground. The gap in strength between them was just too wide.

Still not giving up even as Astolfo's heels touched the unconscious homunculi, he dematerialized the lance and crouched onto the ground. Grabbing a handful of dirt, Astolfo threw it right into the eyes of Siegfried. Finally, this appeared to have an effect. Siegfried paused, his free arm rising to shield his eyes. Using that opportunity, Astolfo tackled Siegfried around his waist. Rather than try to knock him back though, he grabbed Siegfried around the back of the ankles and actually lifted him up-even the strongest and most durable Servant still weighed but a trifle to any Servant. Picking him up over his shoulder, Astolfo shot forward-physically carrying Siegfried away to create distance from the homunculus.

This success lasted but an instant. Balmung lashed out, cutting the back of Astolfo's calf. Crying out as he stumbled, Astolfo was then subjected to a brutal hammer blow to his back. Involuntarily bending forward as he couldn't help but cough, and that unfortunately put Siegfried back on his feet. A knee crashed into Astolfo's face, splitting his lip and sending him reeling. That was actually his only saving grace, already falling back as Balmung swung. Astolfo avoided the worst of it by falling back, but still found his torso marred by a long and thin slice.

Falling back with a hiss of pain from the wound, Astolfo looked up at the intimidating form of Siegfried above him. Crawling away like a crab, he soon flipped and ran on all fours to the homunculus. Throwing himself over the body of the homunculi-even Astolfo's androgynous form was sufficient to completely cover the short and thin boy beneath him-he then turned his head towards Siegfried and yelled defiantly, "I won't let you. You won't get him. Not unless you kill me first."

That caused Siegfried to pause as he raised Balmung, but only for a moment. Then the sword flashed downwards. Siegfried clearly intended to stab through Astolfo to reach the homunculi underneath him, after hearing that declaration.

It halted but an inch from Astolfo's torso.

"Good to see you back, Saber," Astolfo said with a grin, having not even bothered to close his eyes as the sword descended. He had only stared directly into Siegfried's blank eyes.

Or, previously blank eyes. The light had returned to them. The Command Seal, with but a limited amount of prana, had clearly already drained itself from forcing his previous actions.

Yep, Astolfo would choose luck over genius any day.

Despite the lucky break and Astolfo's remaining cheerfulness in face of the chase he had just endured, Siegfried was clearly not so unfazed. He backed away, eyes wide as he breathed deeply in what could only be panic. Rattled, he looked at Balmung and his own hands with disbelieving eyes. He then looked at Rider's bleeding mouth, ruined clothes, and the cut on his chest with guilt and horror.

Astolfo realized what was about to happen just a moment too late to interfere.

Siegfried turned…and fled.

"Wait, Siegfried," Astolfo cried out as he forced himself to stand back up. However his condition meant Siegfried had already streaked away at high speed to leave Astolfo behind. Astolfo had the urge to follow, but turned towards the unconscious homunculus with a grimace. He couldn't be left alone. Finally collapsing to his knees, Astolfo groaned out, "Wah, why did it turn out this way?

Astolfo received no answer, and so was forced to just wait till help arrived while keeping watch on the homunculus. Others had to have been sent once they saw Gordes issue that damnable command through their familiars…Maybe Astolfo should have had the hippogriff fly _towards_ the castle, rather than away. All he'd done was create more distance from reinforcements that could have potentially helped subdue Siegfried.

Thankfully, it only took several minutes for Archer to arrive. Astolfo chuckled ruefully before commenting, "A sight for sore eyes, Chiron. What I wouldn't have given to have you here earlier?"

"Don't say my True Name, Rider," Archer replied automatically despite knowing the probable futility of the request. He instead crouched down by the homunculus, lightly touching different areas of his body while also taking a number of things like his pulse, temperature, checking his pupils, etc. Finally he deigned to inform Astolfo, "Remarkably, he'll recover. The internal bleeding and organ damage has started healing. Exhaustion might be a more serious issue now. For all that he is weak as a newborn, his body is displaying a superior healing capability. It might be an intrinsic form of magecraft. As an artificial being, he was 'programmed' complete. Through the alchemy inherent to his being, his body appears to be subconsciously using magecraft to counter any damage to that state…He truly is unique. Some flaw or mutation in his creation must have allowed an uncommon adaptation or growth potential. This use of magecraft is further damaging the flesh around his magic circuits, but less so than his use of proper magecraft as it is recovering at the same time. When complete, he'll probably be able to use proper magecraft without harm. He's still fragile though. This healing is too little if he had accrued more serious injuries. Good job protecting him, Rider."

Letting out a relieved sigh at that news, Astolfo turned to where Siegfried had disappeared and added, "Siegfried ran away. Which of us should go get him?"

That made Archer shift awkwardly, before he admitted, "I saw his behavior once the Command Seal wore off…I don't think Saber would welcome either of us pursuing him. Or anyone of our faction."

"…Wait," Astolfo asked with wide eyes. "Are you thinking he…deserted? I just thought he needed time!"

"The line between the two can be blurred at time," Archer commented, still subdued himself. "When it comes down to it, these camps are artificial creations. We are not united by country, philosophy, or gods, but from chance in who we were summoned by. By this point, tis clear that of all our current members Siegfried was the one with the most misfortune in Masters. Gordes…has potential, but certainly is entirely incompatible with Siegfried. The relationship between those two would almost certainly end in tragedy, in some fashion, and if Gordes is a member of Yggdmillennia than the question of Saber remaining a Servant of Yggdmillennia becomes muddled."

"But he still needs prana," Astolfo muttered. Despite aiding the homunculus, he hadn't even considered attempting to leave the faction entirely.

"He might not even be considering such things…or he has been faced with a line he will not cross. Even if that means disappearing and achieving nothing," Archer wondered aloud, before continuing, "We must move though. We know not what Saber is thinking. He might return. For now we must return, get the homunculus to safety, and pacify Lancer."

Archer carefully picked up the homunculus in a way as to not jolt his body before moving with the weight like it was nothing. Astolfo moved to follow. For once he was silent.

* * *

The mediator of the Great Holy Grail War chosen by the Grail itself-Ruler, the Saint of Orleans Jeanne d'Arc carefully crouched down to inspect the battlefield. A combination of her skills as a Ruler class Servant, information fed to her by the Grail itself, and revelations from her status as a Saint allowed her to gain a picture of the events that had occurred far beyond what even the most magnificent tracker could manage. This she used to bear witness of the events that had passed in the Grail War, even if retroactively.

She allowed herself to follow the trail of battle, focusing first on where Berserker of Red faced off against both Rider of Black and Berserker of Black. A great many trees were destroyed, but a manageable amount. Berserker had forced the Black Servants back, but had become wounded. Hit with a weak Noble Phantasm. He had returned stronger though, only to be blocked by the appearance of Lancer of Black. Those two skirmished, only to flee by Command Seal.

Jeanne nodded in satisfaction as she tracked the events. She had no complaints. The damage was limited, and there were no rules against teaming up against opposing Servants. It was a fair fight, in terms of following the framework of the war itself.

"A normal battle."

With that declaration, she moved on to the more worrying battle. The battlefield of Saber of Black and Rider of Red. The power of these two Servants was tremendous. Rider of Red was a great and famous hero. He rivaled Lancer of Red, who had already fought Saber of Black in a tremendous bout. This bout was clearly the equal of that. Her skills as a Ruler providing her their True Names clearly illustrated the frustration of their bout. Two invincible warriors clashing.

Yet there was interference. Archer of Red had altered that balance. Jeanne moved to follow the trail of shattered of sliced trees. Saber had sought to close with the enemy Archer, but Rider prevented that. Coming to a section of the forest that had been completely leveled, it didn't take much for her to ascertain that a Command Seal had forced the use of Saber's Noble Phantasm. A useless effort, based on Rider of Red's protection.

But not pointless. It took her several moments of concentration to determine the source of Rider's divine protection being shattered. Archer of Black had stepped in, and luck and coincidence had deemed it a great blow. Afterwards Saber and Rider clashed, with their respective Archers supporting them. This was until Rider fled upon his mount.

This was a fiercer battlefield, the damage to the forest made her wince, but it was still entirely legal by the rules. Saber and Rider clashed, Archers supported their comrades, and eventually the two sides disengaged. It was merely that the power of them was tremendous.

She should prepare herself for this. It was entirely possible all fourteen Servants could clash nearby. While preferably outside Trifas, and Ruler could probably minimize the damage through use of her privilege, such a clash was within the framework of the war.

There weren't any suspicious factors here…besides the lack of any Masters. This wasn't a total surprise. The Masters of Black were holed up in their fortress, and it was reasonable the Masters of Red would behave as magi and hold themselves back from the danger of the battlefields. She hadn't forgotten the attempt by Lancer of Red to eliminate her, but she knew that Lancer of Red possessed a pure and noble character. He would not have attacked her, and so the only reasonable assumption was that he was ordered to. Yet so far she had failed to meet or sense any of the Masters of Red.

An uneasy feeling was present in her stomach. Several factors of her summoning were odd. She shouldn't have needed to possess the body of Laeticia. Several of her powers as Ruler were also functioning improperly.

Something was wrong with this Holy Grail War, beyond its scope, and she needed to figure out just what. Otherwise she knew something would go wrong. For now she would simply fulfill her duties as moderator, while following any clues she could discover.

With that in mind she looked east, where she could sense another clash had occurred. Her feelings told her this one was more complicated, and meaningful. Perhaps insight could be found there.

Such insight was not found.

"This…was not a normal battle," she whispered with a frown. "An internal conflict?"

It quickly became clear that no Red Servants had been present. No, only Saber and Rider of Black. Saber's Master as well.

Wait, no. There was another. Not related to the Holy Grail War?

No. They were?

…She wasn't sure. Her powers as Ruler were unclear, which they should not be for either Masters or Servants. Yet her gut indicated the person was indeed related in some way.

Moving on, she sensed the use of a Command Seal. Ah, that was the cause. Saber of Black was ordered to do something, and Rider of Black fought him. Jeanne quickly followed the path she could sense the mount of Rider of Black took them. Saber of Black interfered, bringing them down. The great scar in the ground made the impromptu landing spot clear. She quickly moved to where Rider utilized several more Noble Phantasms, to no effect.

The Command Seal had worn off before Rider was eliminated, but it appears they split up here. Rider stayed with the unknown person, until Archer of Black arrived and they left. Saber of Black moved further from Yggdmillennia Castle though. Did he run?

Here Ruler felt unsure of how to proceed. No rules had been broken from what she could tell. The unknown party was worrying, but not in the same way as her feeling that something was wrong with the war. Simply an unknown factor that might become important. Not the source of her dread.

And Jeanne, not as a Ruler but as a Saint, could feel that Saber of Black had a part to play. Her Revelation skill was not something that could be explained. All it did was give her insight to the fulfilling of goals or objectives. Her objective in this war was the fulfillment of her duties as Ruler, and identifying and handling the source of the issues that were prevalent in the war so far-even if minor. Somehow, Saber had a part to play in that.

Was he involved or did he know something? Unlikely. He was recently summoned, and the Black faction appeared to be operating by the rules of the war so far despite their possessing of the Greater Grail.

Yet her Revelation was clear. It was a power from the divine, coming from the soul itself. She could not deny it.

Saber of Black-Siegfried-had a part to play in this war. Whether big or small, it would be decisive nonetheless. His fate was one of the hinges upon which this war rotated, which meant it was something she had to pay attention to even if she knew not how.

Just the thought of more work made her body slump. Ugh, it appeared she was 'sleepy'. Or at least, Laeticia's body was sleepy.

Servants weren't able to sleep, or at least, didn't -require- sleep. This wasn't a particularly displeasing demand to Jeanne, the 'normal' urge was surprisingly refreshing to her. However it was undeniably restrictive. She-meaning Laeticia-hadn't slept for two days. Jeanne had possessed her-with Leticia's permission-during her nightly prayers before she went to bed. Jeanne had then immediately set off after using Charisma to persuade her roommates and teachers that she 'had to go do something'. She had ridden a plane through the night to Romania from France, and had hitched a ride in the bed of an old truck to Trifas that had taken all day. Then after that incident with Lancer of Red, she had sought refuge. Eventually coming to a small church where the Sister was willing to allow her to sleep in the attic. Then after but a quick meal, she had set off to mediate the war that left her here halfway through the night. That meant Laeticia hadn't slept in near two days, something she clearly wasn't physically used to.

Jeanne also felt her stomach rumble at the brief thought of a meal. She was hungry too, now. This too was an effect of her incomplete summoning. Servants typically required prana to sustain the body they received created through magecraft. Jeanne didn't have that issue, having a physical body, but she did still require prana. As she was possessing the body of a normal girl, prana was utilized to close the gap in physical capabilities. To enhance Laeticia's body to sufficient levels for Jeanne to function as a Servant. This however strained and stressed the body. A physical, flesh and blood body simply couldn't operate at such high levels without consuming a great amount of calories. Thus, Jeanne had to still eat.

If Jeanne failed to get enough sleep and eat enough, she would collapse. It was simply not something she could deal with through willpower. If she ignored it too long and kept pushing through, she'd simply collapse.

She was dealing with the demands of both a Servant and a human inside one body. She needed to return to town and the bed in the attic there. That was what her body was telling her.

Not yet though. She still had more to do. She needed to get a clearer picture of what happened. She also couldn't search aimlessly. God helped those who helped themselves. No, questioning those involved was simply more constructive. Rider of Black and the unknown party had returned to Yggdmillennia Castle. The Black Faction had already showed an intent to bring her to their side, and so would at least try to talk to her unlike the Red Faction.

However her gut, as Jeanne D'Arc, instead pointed her elsewhere. Saber of Black could provide just as much information, and she could also ascertain his current status and thoughts in not returning to his faction's base of operation. Betrayal or even changing sides was not against the rules, but Saber of Black potentially siding with the as of yet suspicious Red faction would be…worrying.

Mind made up, she used one of her skills as Ruler to use some holy water cast into the air to locate all nearby Servants. Five Servants were in the castle, naturally, but Saber of Black was missing. Frowning, she widened the radius of the detection to a ten kilometer radius. This finally allowed her to locate Saber of Black, who appeared to have come to a stop at the top of one of the nearby mountains.

He was painfully far, for her current state. She leaned against a tree from the iredness now eating at her, but she couldn't stop. Raising a hand, she reluctantly punched herself in the face hard enough for the pain to clear her mind. She'd still lose consciousness like a switch being cut if she pushed too far, but she couldn't allow herself to quit now.

She just knew that this night, what happened, what could happen, and what will happen were of great importance.

That feeling was what drove her as she set up the mountain towards Saber of Black.

* * *

Chiron could only sigh as he watched Rider be removed from the throne room, the stakes of Lancer impaling his arms and legs while several specialized golems of Caster that could take liquid form trapped him in magically enhanced stone.

He wasn't sure if he had even expected anything differently. Pure and heroic as Rider was, this came at the cost of a complete lack of tack and thought. In regards to Lancer, the two had a dismal compatibility as king and subordinate.

After arriving back, Archer had no choice but to bring Rider before Lancer to answer for the vents that happened. Rider had been…far too honest in regards to his attempt to aid the homunculus. Oh, he had refrained from exposing Archer's own contributions. However he had spoken without even a hint of regret, despite the spiral of events. Unashamedly admitting his assistance to the homunculus, and when Darnic had pointed out how it turned out he had shrugged before claiming with a shrug, 'That's a totally different thing, right? Saving him was my choice. Everything else was a result of different choices by other people.'

It had actually been a decent deflection of blame, even if Archer doubted Rider had meant it as so. Gordes had immediately been confined after Caster's golems had brought him back. Even if they had failed to order him to bring back the homunculus alive, his actions were completely unacceptable. Using the last Command Seal broke the very basis of Saber's loyalty to them, leaving nothing to tie him to them. Using the Seal in such a way then gave him ample reason to leave the faction.

No. Gordes might not be able to be punished per say, his magecraft was still required for the other homunculus, but he had showed his value in this war. With Saber gone, that value was none.

That hadn't of course stopped Lancer's fury over Rider's actions and behavior, leading to the punishment. Complete confinement, only to be released to fight. In essence, he had been rendered a _pawn_ moving forward. To be restricted to moves by the king…and sacrificed in the name of preserving more valuable pieces.

"What are your thoughts, Archer?" Lancer asked. Even a child could feel the foul mood engulfing the king of their faction. Archer knew he had to move carefully. Lancer valued his input greatly, yes, but he was a man who would give anything-sacrifice anyone-if it meant victory. Lancer waved his wand as he elaborated, "All this trouble…over a single homunculus. Rider's insolence. Gordes' foolishness. Saber's flight."

Archer stayed silent for several moments, gathering his thoughts and arranging them into the fashion most likely to appease Lancer, before announcing, "Unfortunate, but salvageable."

"Oh," Lancer turned to now look at him with a raised eyebrow, interested, "And just what would we be salvaging, and how?"

"Potentially nothing. Potentially everything," Archer replied. "The homunculus was the source of this…incident. It is through him that we could counter the repercussions…I recommend we grant him sanctuary, free from the place of the other homunculi."

Said homunculus wasn't present. Unconscious, he would have been but an obstacle in the affair. Archer had put him in an empty room. He didn't need any aid. He'd heal on his own by this point.

"And just _why_ …should we do that? It's just a homunculus. One who has already cost us much," Darnic interrupted.

Looking at Lancer's Master and head of the Yggdmillennia Clan, Archer explained, "Rider sought to assist this homunculus. His actions and feelings might have been foolish, but not outright treasonous. He sought not to betray or leave our force. Saber too seems to have had similar intentions. Not betrayal, but the desire to save one homunculus. Rider did declare as such, and Saber asked that the homunculus be granted salvation as a boon. Denying that boon could arguably be considered the root of this incident. It costs us but little, to save the life of but one homunculus, and such mercy could be crucial in healing any such rifts this incident have caused with Rider and Saber."

"This homunculus has value beyond its life," Caster interrupted from where he had silently been listening until this point. Looking at Darnic, he added, "This homunculus is a candidate to serve as the core of my Noble Phantasm. One of the few candidates."

Archer frowned at that. He had suspected the homunculus had some unknown value to Caster. Only that would explain Caster's fixation on recovering him. It had been why he had acceded to Rider's escape plan, despite being unlikely to succeed. He had feared that Caster would move soon. The homunculus couldn't have left the castle so it was only a matter of time before Caster swept every room to find him. Even Archer's.

Lancer raised a hand, stopping any argument from breaking out. Looking at Archer, he asked seriously, "Do you believe saving this homunculus could allow us to…reassure Saber and convince his return?"

Lancer had immediately recognized Siegfried's intent, after he recovered from the Command Seal. The expression Lancer had seen through a familiar was one he had seen often in life. He was after all well used to betrayal and desertion, having fought the overwhelming Ottomans with no chance of victory.

It still troubled him. Siegfried's eyes hadn't been that of betrayal or cowardice, of which Lancer was used to. It had been of self-hatred, of which he was just as used to. Many of his soldiers had suffered it. Those who had willingly followed him in committing atrocities as a warning to the Ottomans. To force them to feel fear, in spite of their might. Men who had helped him impale hundreds and thousands would occasionally just…break. They'd look at their hands, and only be able to see the blood. The horrors they had committed, and not that which they were protecting in the process. He had always found these deserters the hardest to deal with. Traitors and cowards deserved every punishment he could inflict. These men though…He had felt regret.

He had simply rationalized it as a difference in strength. The difference between heroes and the broken of the battlefield. Heroes were those with the strength and will to continue.

It was this very belief that now failed him. Saber had been a warrior without peer. Lancer had surely never found the man's equal in life and could scarcely imagine it still. A man who killed a great dragon with no gifts but the sword in his hand, and then become one of the few warriors to earn the title of 'Invincible'.

Yet, he had broken. How could such a hero break? He couldn't understand it.

He would find no answers, and he wasn't sure whether it mattered. Despite his previous beliefs over strength being that which had separated the heroes from the broken, it clearly didn't apply in this case. The strength of Saber-of Siegfried-was undeniable. Regaining that strength was more important than understanding what happened.

If Archer could offer insight or hope of doing just that, he had no choice but to listen.

Archer however carefully replied, "I believe any hope of convincing Saber to return is dependent upon the survival of the homunculus. Thus as I stated earlier, protecting him is my recommendation for the moment."

Lancer gave him a look that told Archer he might be suspicious of his part in this. That Archer's own position here was not unknown to his king. However he was relieved when Vlad nodded and said, "I shall allow this…for the moment."

"Understood, your Majesty," Archer said with a graceful bow. He then moved to leave while continuing, "Shall I go inform Rider of this boon?"

A wave of Lancer's hand was his dismissal. He quickly left the room.

Lancer watched him go. Waiting a minute longer in silence without dismissing either Darnic or Caster, he finally spoke when he was sure Archer was out of hearing range, "Caster. The homunculus shall not be touched at the moment. Ensure your Noble Phantasm is ready. Depending on how the situation develops, I might change my mind in the future."

This was far from the first case of priority and sacrifice that Lancer had been forced to deal with. Lancer had little patience himself for one homunculus that had already caused undue grief and concern, but a basic of being king was understanding that the priorities of others might not align with your own. Lancer had failed in indulging in that in life, with the result being his imprisonment. This homunculus was directly best utilized by becoming the core of Caster's Noble Phantasm, but indirectly could prove crucial in keeping the allegiance in Rider, Saber, and potentially Archer. That meant the latter took priority, at least until it failed to deliver or the time came where the support of Caster's Noble Phantasm became critical.

Lancer would not lose this chance because of one homunculus, and those who valued one homunculus more than the Holy Grail.

Any dissatisfaction Caster might have felt at the delay to receiving the core he needed was assuaged with that. He was willing to be patient, if it meant bringing forth his masterpiece. His Adam.

And if Lancer _didn't_ change his mind…well, he had plans for that scenario too.

* * *

Archer passed by the clearly dissatisfied Celenike as he approached Rider's current cell. Her feelings weren't a surprise. Not only a person filled with ill feelings in general, but she had also come under scrutiny from this event. While not as much as Gordes, there was no denying now that she utterly lacked control over Rider beyond the Command Seals she still possessed.

Choosing to ignore her, Archer instead looked upon the imprisoned Rider as he entered the cell. He then immediately preempted Rider by telling him, "I must apologize, Rider. If I had intervened, it wouldn't have come to this."

"No, no," Rider easily refuted. "There's no reason to split our faction apart further for a trivial thing like this. I was scolded and received punishment for this incident. I might not believe I was wrong or that I am responsible, but I can understand the need for someone to be punished. If this is enough to end the matter, I don't mind at all."

Impressed by Rider's nonchalance over the brutal punishment of basically be crucified by Lancer, imprisoned, and made into a mere pawn to use as is most convenient for the faction, Archer decided to lift his spirits by telling him the good news, "At least rest knowing that Lancer has decided to spare the homunculus for the moment. I would not expect such mercy to last long, or if sacrificing him would become necessary, but it at least gives us time to come to a more permanent solution."

"That's great. Although there's not much I can do from here. Maybe I'll be like a tree-I turned into a tree once. Very calm and peaceful, plus the squirrels, birds, and deer don't hesitate to come right up to you-If I can get like that again I might be able to think of something. Probably shouldn't rely on me though. All the other Paladins knew that no one was as reckless as me!"

Chuckling at the rapid speech and claims, Archer calmly claimed, "I shall consider, but it might not be planning that preserves us or the homunculus, but luck and an ability to adapt to whatever comes."

"Cool, that I can do," Rider said with a nod. However he then stared at Archer intently before asking, "Ho, why are you going so far as to help him, Archer?"

Archer only smiled before answering honestly and gently, "We are only transient existences without flesh. It would be nice if there was but a single being that we etched onto the world. A single life that was saved…as proof that we were here."

Rider only looked at him with wide eyes. He then lowered his head and whispered something dangerous, "I wish you had been our king."

"I'm not suited to such a role. I'm better as a teacher or advisor. That I know," Archer admitted with a bitter smile.

Rider chose not to debate that. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. If anything, his mood finally appeared gloomy, fitting with his surroundings.

"Hey, Archer…Do you think Saber will be all right?"

"…For the moment," Archer said. "Lancer chose not to cut off his prana supply immediately. We'll track him down later in the morning, preferably negotiate his return. If we don't succeed in that, we must plan how to best adapt to Saber's absence."

"No, not that," Rider quickly amended before elaborating, "If he chooses to disappear, well…that's his choice. It would not be my responsibility."

That…was actually surprising. Archer had imagined Saber and Rider were closer than that…although, maybe it was exactly because they were close. Rider acted how he wanted, when he wanted. He might be affectionate, pushy, and effusive, but if Saber's own will was to disappear…Rider might not understand, but he would not deny him that right.

"It's just…do you think he's okay? If he ran…why did he run? I always thought he was a calm and kinda boring guy, but…" Rider continued gloomily.

"I can't claim to know Saber, not having had a single conversation with him. However I do know this," Chiron said. He might not have talked to Saber, but he was not without his ways of deduction. The wisdom granted to him by the Greek gods. His Clairvoyance. His lifetime of training heroes of all types. "There are many types of heroes. There are those like me, those born in circumstances that demanded a spectacular life. There are those like you, whom possess a spirit to where walking the path of a hero is only natural. The only path you could ever walk…Then there are those like Siegfried. To some, titles like 'hero' 'king' or 'savior' are not descriptions or titles, but idealized roles. They discard their own humanity to uphold these ideals and live those roles…It can only end in regret and tragedy. We are but imperfect beings. Even those who no longer are human will never act or behave perfectly. They will always fail in the end. The gap between them as a person and the idealized hopes they hope to fulfill will always be wide, causing disappointment at the end. The greater the 'hero' or 'king', the greater the disappointment."

"For Siegfried, whom 'hero' so perfectly describes, this must be agony. He was never defeated. Never showed a shameful figure. Yet his story is full of failure and regret. For him, the gap between himself as a person and himself as a hero is immense. Too far to cross…no, I feel maybe it is too far for himself to even see the other side anymore," Archer spoke gravely. "Even worse, I fear Siegfried doesn't even know himself well enough to recognize this gap in his heart. Or at least, understand it and its cause. He seeks a glimpse of the truth…the truth of his own being. If he got that glimpse, he might be satisfied. He might be able to disappear from this life with a smile…Or he might only feel shame. We are imperfect beings. Complex beings. Filled with both good and bad. With but a glimpse he would see only part of himself. Considering what happened, I believe he was once again made aware of his failures and weaknesses. It is not unexpected he would flee."

Archer smiled softly here though, as he claimed earnest, "But Siegfried is strong. He might flee now, but he became a hero for a reason. Even if he lost his way. If he gets the smallest bit of wisdom from seeing his own weakness and failures, he will surely find more of himself. Even if he seeks the truth of himself, peace will only truly come to him if he can bridge that gap in his heart. If he can reconcile himself as both a hero and a person. Learn from his failures and become better for it, not as a hero but as a person. Only through this will he also grow as a hero."

"So deep. I don't get it," Astolfo moaned out with a pout. He then turned sad against as he admitted, "Is it wrong that all I can think of is that I'm lonely now that Saber's gone?"

Archer laughed loudly at that, earnestly and without hesitation. He then pat Astolfo's head as he commented, "You truly are a good person, Astolfo of Charlemagne's Paladins."

Astolfo was crucified. He was imprisoned. He had been rendered a disposable pawn by his faction.

And what he felt was sadness over a comrade no longer being at his side.

Although he didn't understand Archer's enjoyment, "Moh, don't tease me, Chiron."

"I'm not. Honest," Archer told him before continuing with a smile, "If you should see him again, you should tell him you were lonely without him around. It might sound unimportant, but the meaning behind it…It will matter to him, I think."

* * *

It was a harsh journey for Ruler. Her breathing was rough. Her vision swam. Each step she took exhausted her stamina.

Yet she continued. She prayed she would catch up with Saber of Black as she ascended the mountain. She begged her body, 'Just endure it a little longer.'

Her body-no, Laeticia's body-was still failing though. She was losing control of her body even as her mind remained determined. Her physical form had finally broke through the limits of its ability to keep moving. All but stumbling, it was only the force of will suited to a Saint that kept her moving.

Why was she going through so much trouble?

Because she had to talk to him-no, wanted to. As Ruler, Saber was but another Servant to her. She was a neutral figure. Yet her Revelation told her that he had an important part to play.

And…her honest feelings called for her to go. Similar such feelings had once driven Jeanne to walk away from her happy home to walk the battlefield. She had heard the Lord's lamenting. She heard His shrieks. His cries. His weeping. She felt His sorrow. Heard His small, feeble whispers that no one else listened to. To respond to His voice was why she threw away everything she had. Her life as a simple villager. The future joy of loving someone and being loved back. The fulfillment of a family. She discarded it all to confront the hell that the war had turned her country into-where conflict never ended and blood incessantly soaked the ground. There would be no compensation, and surely she would be scorned by both enemies and allies alike. Being burned at the stake was a natural end for a mere village girl who jumped onto the battlefield in His name.

His voice hadn't been a demand. It hadn't spoken to her purposefully. It promised no glory or victory.

But He lamented.

Surely she couldn't have turned her back on His cries.

She did not hear Him now. It was not His voice calling out. It was a mere whisper on the wind and feeling in her gut that told her the path before her was important-worth walking even if the end was lamentable. Just as when these had told her to venture onto the battlefield…surely she couldn't help but respond.

Finally, she caught sight of a hazy figure standing on a cliff at the highest point of the mountain. She let out a sigh of relief as she approached the clearing form of Saber of Black. She had made it.

Yet when he heard her steps and turned towards her, she felt her vision swim. A powerful-unique even-Revelation engulfed her vision. She saw three different scenes before her.

One was of Saber of Black, but with such an atmosphere of pain her heart ached. He was seated on the cliff, no emotion on his face but anguish in his heart. His hand was on his chest, fingers curled in preparation for an act she could guess from that anguish.

The second was of another. A boy with fine, elegant features standing above her and timidly extending a hand. He looked like a homunculus, but with features too splendid and heroic for those carefully crafted beings. The overlapping visions allowed her to identify them as reminiscent of Saber of Black. Was this a different aspect of Siegfried? That made no sense. Siegfried was a hero who became as such through actions, not destiny. Summoning him so young-before he accomplished his famous achievements-wasn't possible. Yet she still felt as if the person was Siegfried-somehow.

The final scene was of the present. Saber of Black was now facing her. He lacked the anguish of the other one in her visions, or the timidity of the Not-Siegfried. If anything, he appeared thoughtful. Almost…tranquil.

"Are you hear to kill me, Ruler?"

The sound of his voice snapped her out of that vision, and her body immediately failed from the intensity of that vision. Her legs collapsed under her. Sprawled out, she lacked the strength to stand herself back up. She wouldn't die, but her body needed food and sleep.

Yet seeing Saber approach, she stayed awake and aware. Soon he was standing above her. Then, instead of speaking, he crouched down. Slipping his arms underneath her legs and behind her back, he lifted her up with utter ease. She squeaked a slight bit at the act, but didn't protest further as he walked to the cliff edge. He then gently set her down with her back to the tree, providing an amazing view. From their positon, she could see the forested mountains stretching out before her alongside a small town in the distance that glowed with scattered lights. She barely noticed as Siegfried sat himself down on a tree next over.

He then spoke, "Is there a reason you collapsed at the sight of me?"

"I am currently possessing an ordinary French girl with compatible physical and spiritual characteristics to myself, with her permission. However this demands that I eat and sleep. Unfortunately, I have been too distracted and busy to properly do this," Ruler admitted with a blush, choosing to leave out her odd vision.

He tilted his head before commenting, "I'm sorry, but it wouldn't be good to continue such behavior. If she willingly welcomed you, every care should be made to ensure her continued safety and health."

"Thank you for caring for Laeticia's well-being, Saber," Ruler said with a genuine smile. "But you need not worry. While I am restricted by her physical form, myself and the Grail properly recorded her data before my arrival. Even should I die before the end of the war, the Grail shall reconstruct her body in safety away from here. Any injuries or physical damage sustained during this time shall be reversed."

"Ah, I'm sorry for presuming then," Saber said with a nod. "Is there a reason you followed me here? Considering your fatigue, it isn't likely to kill me. Although I assume your Privilege would still allow it."

"No. I just came here to…" Ruler began before trailing off as she embarrassingly realized she wasn't quite sure why she was here. She had simply felt like she needed to be here. Finally she went for basic, "I was investigating the recent skirmishes. The battle between you and Rider of Black was simply something I felt necessary to follow up on. As you were isolated and already proven to not seek my harm, Saber, I pursued you for some clarification."

"Ah, I see. It was a shameful display, but I shall not deny you your right," Saber answered.

Ruler then listened as Saber explained what had happened. An attempt by Rider of Black to rescue a homunculus, and how Saber of Black and his Master were sent to pursue them. Saber defying his Master, and the way his Master then used his final Command Seal to order the execution of the homunculus. The fight between Saber and Rider.

Then Saber's flight.

"So you have abandoned your Master," Ruler noted seriously. It hadn't been what she had expected. His legends portrayed him as completely loyal, maybe even too loyal. She however quickly added when she saw him tense, "However it is perfectly ordinary and legal for Servants to potentially betray or abandon their Masters."

Saber relaxed, but then silence followed them. She wasn't sure what to do. Or if she even _could_ do something with her current weakness. Saber in turn seemed content with silence.

Until he wasn't.

"I'm sorry for imposing, Jeanne d'Arc, but I feel troubled. Even if it is a shameful display on my part, will you listen? Someone as pure as you might not understand my foulness, confessing my failures to a Saint is a chance to unburden myself. Or maybe just prove my thoughts by speaking them aloud to another. Although as we do not follow the same gods, I would accept if you refuse."

Surprised by the request from one who she had thought a man of few words and private thoughts, although not surprised he had deduced her True Name from her flag, she replied regardless, "I am not worthy of being called a Saint, but I shall listen as best I can. I am always willing to do that, Siegfried."

"My thanks," Siegfried said before starting, "I have no wish for the Grail, but I have a wish. No, a desire. I sought to find myself. The ideals I forgot-maybe even cast aside-in life in the name of fulfilling the wishes of others. It's a selfish wish. Fulfilling the wishes of others is not something I regret, in and of itself, but…"

"You are wrong, Siegfried," Jeanne quickly broke in. "I apologize for my failings as a listener, but I do not believe anyone has the right to judge the earnest wishes of others. As long as your desire does not bring doom upon the world or others, it is not wrong to wish for your own salvation. Even if that salvation be selfish in nature. To find out what you believe in is a wonderful desire as well."

Her words only brought a bitter smile to his face though. "I thank you for your kind words, Jeanne, but they are unnecessary. I have already acknowledged the foulness of my greedy desire. Even if I should be cursed for it…I have dedicated myself to use this opportunity for that which I failed to obtain in life. I shall accept any consequences of my actions."

Jeanne frowned slightly at that, but stayed silent. She didn't agree, but it was not her place. People had their own beliefs and bias'. You could not simply convince someone of your own viewpoint. Not even Charisma was such an almighty ability, as it should be. She might not believe Siegfried's wish was bad, but his values were different from her own. Even the negative way he clearly thought of himself was his own bias she couldn't just trample over or erase.

Already this conversation has become more serious than expected. More intimate too, by the way they were now using each other's True Names. Was this why she had felt drawn here? Was listening to him at this moment that important?

"My desire here is clear. To no longer fight for others, nor even myself but to discover my own ideals and fight _for_ those ideals," Siegfried began again. "Yet, today I realized the shallowness of my determination to realize that desire. That Command Seal…I should have been able to fight it. Even without Magic Resistance, other Heroic Spirits could have fought. Yet not me."

"Because I allowed myself to become but a [System] that granted wishes in life. I had no place to judge others. That was my mindset. A machine. A wish granting device in the shape of a man. It seems that has followed me here. I claimed to want to fight for my own beliefs, but I without protest allowed myself to become but a soldier of the Black faction. I followed the orders of my Master and the leaders of the faction. It was simply…easier. 'This much is nothing' 'This order makes sense' 'It is simply better if I obey'. Even Rider, as pure and just as he is. All I could do is listen and help when he asked it of me. 'The homunculus asked to be saved. How can I not do so?'

"And so I walked the exact same path I did in life, even as I spoke shallow words of reassurance to myself that this time would be different. My own desire was…without substance for I failed to back it up with action."

"Tis only natural that when my Master gave me the sort of order I previously received, there was naught I could do. All the Command Seal did was input the order into the [System] that I am, and I obeyed. Just like in life. I couldn't resist. I didn't want to resist. It was not my place to resist. In the end, I showed myself as still the exact same person as in life."

"You should not make such assumptions, Siegfried," Jeanne once again interrupted. "I'm sure you fought. How else could both Rider of Black and the homunculus survive against you?"

"I'm sorry, but you overestimate myself and underestimate Rider," Siegfried claimed in spite of-or maybe because-her claim that could have relieved the burden he placed on himself. Looking at his hand, "Still with this hand I was willing to kill a comrade following his heart and one who only asked to be allowed the chance to live."

Looking back over the cliff, he continued, "That is why I ran. If I have any intention of fulfilling my desire, I had to leave. I had to make my desire have substance through acting on it. I had to step off the path I walked in life where I followed the orders of others and allowed them to decide what I should fight for. To change myself by walking a different path. Even if I disappear tomorrow from prana depletion or am killed by the enemy Servants, or even my own former comrades, it is necessary. I must separate myself. Walk a path that I choose myself, even if I have not a clue where I'm going or where I'll end up. If I don't, even if I survive to the end, win this Holy Grail War, and obtain the Grail…I know I shall only feel regret at the end for wasting this chance…I can't stand the thought of that. I would rather disappear now. So even if this too is a mistake, at least there is hope that on my own I shall discover something that would give my chance here meaning."

With that over, Jeanne paused. She wasn't sure how to respond. His desire was earnest and pure, despite the abuse he heaped upon himself. Finally…

"I shall pray you will be victorious in this war, Siegfried."

He blinked at her in the closest display of shock she had yet seen from him, before he finally commented, "I do not seek to win this war. I have no wish I would ask of the Grail. I'm sorry, but you should pray for someone with a worthier wish the Grail can actually grant to win."

"I pray all the Servants in this war prove victorious. Even if only one Servant will win in the end, I pray all fourteen shall triumph here," Jeanne informed him with a shake of her head. Putting her hand over her heart, "Everyone always tells me I should be bitter over my end, or seek revenge on those who burned me at the stake as a witch. I do not understand that though. I set out knowing I would face such an end. That I wouldn't be able to stop the war engulfing my country. Yet I do not regret it. I acted not in hopes of victory or recompense, but a small wish that I could sooth the Lord and bring even the smallest measure of peace. If I could do that even as an out of place farm girl from the countryside, then how could I ever look upon my life with anything but a smile?"

Looking him in the eyes, she told him, "You seek a small wish, and hope your presence here will have some meaning. I cannot offer advice, and will not try to offer comfort. All I shall do is hope that you shall find what you seek, and even if you face an ignoble end you will have no more regrets at that moment than I myself felt at the stake…I shall pray you prove victorious in this war, Siegfried."

"…Thank you for listening to my thoughts, no matter how unworthy. I also thank you for your prayers," he finally replied to her confession. Standing up, he announced, "I have taken enough of your time, Ruler. I shall take no more."

"No. I am glad. You bore your heart to me, Saber. Expressed your heartfelt doubts and desires. You have provided me a gift here tonight, even if you do not believe so," Ruler said as she tried to stand up as he did.

However she was soon reminded of her current weaknesses. Her body was more likely to fall asleep by this point than manage even ten steps. Blushing crimson, especially as her stomach growled again, she reluctantly asked, "I'm sorry, Saber, but could you possibly carry me on your back? My stomach is empty."

She had little desire to spend the night sleeping on the forest ground, and Sister Petresia could also end up worried despite Ruler having already admitted she'd be keeping erratic hours. She'd also be able to eat easier there.

Siegfried crouched at her side. Showing her his back, he told her, "For your time, I shall gladly return the favor by granting you my own." Blushing at the gesture, Ruler still clambered onto his broad back. As soon as she was on his back, Saber started moving with the speed and ease of a Servant even as he asked, "Am I right to assume you are staying in Trifas?"

"Yes. A small chapel."

Saber just nodded at the news, not altering his pace. Ruler soon found herself drifting off. Siegfried's back was broad, and she knew he wouldn't drop her. Eventually, her fatigued body finally reached the rest it had sought for too long.

* * *

Ruler found herself being awakened. Opening her eyes drowsily, she found herself face to face with Saber. Forgetting herself for a moment, she jumped back a slight bit at the unexpected sight before her.

However seeing him holding up a small bag from a grocery store, he told her, "I figured it best if you could eat before returning. It's just bread and cheese, but it should solve any hunger."

Blushing at her momentary confusion when she remembered all that had happened, and then blushing even more when the mere thought of food caused an audible rumble of her stomach. Lowering her head to hide her red cheeks, she gladly took the bag. Then as she opened it, she asked, "How did you buy it?"

"I found several bills on the ground."

Ah, that wasn't actually a surprise. Saber possessed the _Golden Rule_ skill, even if it was a low rank. Siegfried had won the magnificent treasure-the Rheingold-when he killed the dragon Fafnir. It was great enough that he would never be troubled by money again. That carried over to him as a Servant, even if Das Rheingold-one of his potential Noble Phantasms-hadn't manifested. He would always find money to be available when needed.

However it was better not to comment on it. The Rheingold had been a cursed treasure. It ensured fate would work against him. That those he shed blood to protect would inevitably fall from his own actions and failures. It had also manifested in his _Golden Rule_ skill, ensuring he had the lowest possible Luck rating.

Such thoughts were removed from her mind when she finally found herself smelling the food he had brought her. Simple fare, but more than enough to turn her ravenous. She quickly ate the bread and cheese, a bit too eagerly to maintain proper manners. By the time she finished the small snack, she found Saber looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She once again blushed, quickly cleaning her face of any crumbs from her eagerness.

"Do you need me to carry you?"

"No," Ruler quickly asserted, actually slightly embarrassed over the whole affair. Now that she had had twenty winks of sleep and a small meal she was already feeling better. At least well enough to return to the chapel.

Saber still accompanied her though, in case she collapsed again. Ruler had little concern over him discovering her current residence. While he had shown a side of himself tonight she hadn't expected, she felt no need to worry that he could use such information for nefarious means.

Soon arriving at the chapel, Ruler knocked. It was just courtesy, expecting the Sister to be asleep and for her to let herself in, but she was surprised when it was almost immediately opened. The Sister looked tired, making Ruler feel guilty as it appeared she had been staying up for her.

"Jeanne, good to see you returning," Sister Petresia said at the sight of Jeanne, who had dissolved her Servant clothing for her casual ones. She however paused at the sight of Saber, who had himself dissolved his armor to leave him in black clothing that nonetheless failed to hide his heroic figure and the glowing green tattoo on his chest. "Who is this?"

"An acquaintance I just happened to meet with nearby. A lot of stuff happened, and we ended up talking too late. He had to help me back here," Ruler quickly explained.

"Ah, thank you for that."

"I had nowhere else to be, and it was a good use of my time," Saber replied simply.

"Nowhere? Do you happen to need a place to rest like Jeanne here? We have no more beds, but we might be able to figure out something?" The Sister asked.

Saber however shook his head before telling her, "There is no need to worry, Sister. Plus, it is best that…our friends do not see Jeanne and myself together."

"What do you mean?"

Ruler stepped in here and claimed, "The circumstances between Siegfried and myself are…complicated. The way things are, some may simply misunderstand."

The Sister just looked between them with wide eyes. Obviously, she just didn't understand that as a neutral mediator, Ruler needed to stay separate from the other Servants, while Saber was now a person of interest as an independent Servant. Meanwhile neither Ruler nor Saber understood what she was thinking, seeing Jeanne apparently interacting with a handsome man so late at night in a secret rendezvous. The Sister felt Jeanne was clearly too virtuous a person to be up to anything untoward, but they did say it was complicated. Two foreigners happening to meet in a small, isolated place like this?

Neither of them noticed her misunderstanding though. Saber just nodded and started to walk away, but stopped when Jeanne said from the door, "Siegfried. Good luck. I shall pray for you."

He only nodded before leaving silently.

Looking at the clear sky, he finally started walking again…Even if he knew not where he was headed.

* * *

 **So, there it is. Siegfried is on his own. Always my intent for him to strike out alone..**

 **Quick genuine question. Am I making POV mistakes? I shifted a bit around. The light novels do a lot. It's just hard to only use one character's point of view, since all the Servants are such diverse characters they each provide something to a scene. If that made it worse though tell me.**

 **I had originally planned that Rider would be saved by Lancer of Black, where Saber and Lancer would fight and Saber would stop right as he was about to fire Balmung. However I just didn't like the fight scene. There's only so many ways you can describe Lancer throwing thousands of spikes at someone. So I just decided Astolfo's A+ ranked Luck would show.**

 **This chapter had a number of potential POD's. My very first idea for this story was the story starting here. Saber wouldn't knock out Gordes, allowing Gordes to use the Command Seal as he did here. However Siegfried was supposed to actually kill the homunculus by stabbing him through Rider. Siegfried was then supposed to flee the Black faction, and Ruler was supposed to prevent him from committing suicide. One of her visions was of that, the other being her canon meeting with Sieg. A major part of this plot was actually Astolfo holding a grudge, and spending the rest of the war trying to avenge the homunculus by killing Siegfried. However the light novels definitely have handled Sieg better than the anime so far, and I decided I didn't want him to die. My next idea was Gordes actually granting Siegfried's request this chapter for a boon, thus preventing the whole affair. They'd return to the castle, and Lancer would allow the homunculus its freedom as a boon to Saber, Rider, and Archer. However I really wanted Saber to leave the faction, so I ended up with this version. It came out a bit messy. I'm not too happy with the Siegfried-Jeanne talk as I basically had to decide why the Command Seal would effect Siegfried so much. Tell me if it's just me, or was it a pretty bad and out of character scene.**

 **Finally, what should the homunculus be named here? I can't do Sieg, but he needs a name. I'm wondering about Roland, a name chosen by Astolfo for obvious reasons.**


End file.
